


Libera Me

by Ruaki



Series: dffxnoehopu [1]
Category: Dissidia Duodecim: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XIII-2
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drama, Ensemble Cast, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:32:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 73,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruaki/pseuds/Ruaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the war of the gods, they were chosen to fight, and the outcome would affect far more than they had guessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. act i. cycle ix.

**act i. cycle ix.**

The infinite clockwork of possibilities stretched from horizon to horizon. Gears endlessly turned, spinning Time’s flow from past to future.

Through this he floated in a dream upon wings of chaos.

Drifting along the rivers of time, there was no destination. He had gained his pyrrhic victory and this was his reward: forever lost in eternity, forever wandering in solitude.

Chaos beat inside him and the memories of a hundred timelines consumed him. Pity for the one defeated filled him, followed by a rising despair to be cursed by the same doom. He saw his friends and the fates which awaited them, but he could not reach out, could not call to them. Helplessness rose in him like bile.

Brilliant golden light saturated the vast orange sunset of Time. His eyelids fluttered and he awoke from his dream, drowning in that ethereal radiance.

( _You make your own myths, Caius._ )

He was but a fraction of the size of the great dragon’s head; it stared down at him as Time funneled him toward it. He could see himself reflected in a giant yellow eye, the cat-slit pupil contracting in the shining light.

( _But I’m going to save everyone my way._ )

His lips curled into an old, familiar smile.

Jaws snapped shut over him.

 

 

  
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The basin was surrounded by jagged escarpments, craggy hands reaching over the calm surface of the deep lagoon. Green vines and purple flora blanketed the grey rock, netting across the branches of the slender willows standing guard over the pool.

A fat, furry quadruped moved quickly under the shadows of trees to escape the afternoon heat, its long tongue lolling out. Shiny black button eyes glanced cautiously about before it waddled to the edge of the still pool. Ripples broke the surface as the beast bent its long neck to drink.

Crawling on his belly to the precipice of a rocky overhang, a predator watched from overhead. He was a young man with skin browned from long days in the sun, sleek in form-fitting leather armor of blue and black, ornamented only with a simple sash and a trail of feathers at his waist. Pinions and beads adorned long dark hair framing an expressive face currently hardened with concentration.

A tiny ursine creature bobbed up into the air beside him; Noel lifted a hand and gently pushed the moogling back low onto the ground. They had to be careful and not be seen; this was dinner on the line and good meat was not always easy to find.

His prey quickly lifted its head to some unheard sound, water dripping from its muzzle. Noel held his breath. The critter’s ears twitched and after a pause, it stooped down to drink again.

Exhaling slowly, Noel pushed himself up, fingers gripping the shaft of his spear tight. The muscles in his arm bunched. He had only one chance...

Rocks crunched like a loud shot in the peaceful lagoon.

The beast’s head swiftly snapped up and darted to the safety of vine and tree with a loud yip. Muttering a curse, Noel flattened himself as a strange boy popped through a gap of stone, stumbling onto the shore of the pool.

The moogling chirped quietly in surprise and Noel touched it in warning. He peered over the edge of his perch.

The boy crouched at the water’s edge, drinking deep and splashing water onto his pale-haired head. Noel pegged him at maybe fourteen or fifteen—not much younger than him—slight in build and height and also naggingly familiar. A white crown of shining stars flickered upon the boy’s brow for a moment.

( _One of Cosmos._ ) Noel frowned at the sign. Better to stay quiet until the boy left. Still, he couldn’t shake this feeling—he knew this boy from somewhere.

Suddenly the stranger looked up at where Noel was hiding; Noel pressed himself even closer to the rock, thoughts now running a mile a minute. Their eyes had briefly met and while the boy was shorter, younger, and less stately, Noel recognized exactly who he was.

( _But how?_ )

Three seconds later, Noel’s world exploded.

Flames, rocks, and dust blinded him; instinctively, Noel tucked his body in to land on hard ground with a roll, before flipping up onto the balls of his feet, sister swords materializing in his hands.

Disoriented, he tried to get his bearings; a kupo resounded from his right and he whirled around in time to intercept a meteor of ice with his larger sword. The missile ricocheted off his blade with jarring force, twisting it from his fingers. Noel cursed, reaching for the hilt, but a bolt of lightning blasted into the sword and it exploded into sparks.

His vision burning with the afterimage of the lightning strike, Noel shot forward to dodge another bolt, weaving across the the rocky shore as elements rained down in succession. Slicing through a wall of water with his short blade, he closed the distance between them; pale green eyes widened in surprise as Noel swung his gladius wide, flat of the blade out.

It crashed hard against a barrier of magic glyphs, sparks flying. Noel shoved at the shield, flipping back, and before the boy could conjure more spells, kicked up gravel and sand. His opponent flinched reactively at the harmless attack and Noel used that split second of distraction to barrel into him, knocking him flat on his back. In a flash he was atop the boy, pinning down an arm and pressing the gladius to his neck.

And a pinprick prodded against his own.

Noel met the boy’s green eyes, wide with desperation, small chest heaving with adrenaline. A curved knife was clenched tight in an extended fist, wicked tip ghosting against Noel’s exposed skin.

A thin bead of sweat trickled down from Noel’s temple. He craned his neck carefully against the quivering knife to better watch the boy beneath him. “...I’m not going to hurt you.”

The boy’s lip curled. Noel never imagined that such a ferocious look could grace such an innocent face. “Pretty funny coming from the guy with a sword to my neck.” The tone was harsh, but Noel could feel the fear in the boy’s body.

With obvious deliberateness, Noel loosened his grip on his short sword. Fear could make people act in the most irrational of ways. He had to reassure the boy that he meant no harm. “You attacked me first.”

The boy suddenly tensed; the knife’s edge scraped against Noel’s skin and he quickly tilted his head away but the blade followed. “Why were you watching me? What were you doing?”

Noel grimaced, side-eyeing the steel. “I was getting dinner—and you scared it off.”

The knife didn’t budge, but the boy was silent. Noel could feel his eyes on him.

They were getting nowhere with this stalemate and Noel realized that he’d have to be the first to give in. He was sure that the boy was simply frightened and had no intent to actually kill. If he didn’t feel threatened, he might be easier to reason with.

Decision made, Noel’s gladius disappeared in a flash of sparks and he lifted up his hands in a gesture of peace. When the boy didn’t press an attack, Noel carefully got to his feet and backed off, rubbing away the feel of the blade on his neck.

The boy quickly sat up, weapon still pointed at him, eyes suspicious.

“No harm, no foul, right?” Noel smiled, extending a hand in an offer to help the boy stand. “Name’s Noel. Noel Kreiss. You are…?”

He could tell the boy was parsing the situation; a slight furrow creased between his brows—a habit the older version would continue to carry—and his mouth tightened. Ignoring the question, the boy lowered his arm, sliding the knife shut and scrambling to his feet. Noel tilted his head at the weapon—it looked incredibly similar to the military survival knife Serah had, the one she claimed was her sister’s.

Awkwardly, the two stared at each other. Birds chirped from the trees.

Noel rubbed the back of his head. “So,” he said, not really sure how to handle this, “you’re a warrior of Cosmos, aren’t you?”

The boy eyed Noel warily. “What do you mean?”

“What I said.” Noel tapped his chin. “How can I put this… You’re headed there, right?” He pointed at a shining tower shrouded in clouds, rising in the distance beyond blue mountains. “And you don’t remember much, you don’t know where you are, but you had some visions. A woman—a goddess—calling you to go there.”

The other’s expression confirmed Noel’s words. “You… seem to know a lot about this…”

Noel grinned. “I’ve been around. Look, to make up for before, how about I take you there? It’s not far but you can get lost easi—”

“No, thank you.” A wall dropped down over the boy’s face; his voice was cool and reserved. “I don’t trust you.”

“...That’s blunt enough.” But Noel wasn’t bothered by it. ( _He was a also little suspicious of me back then, the first time we met._ )

[Noel!] His moogling bobbled from past the startled boy to fling itself into Noel’s face. [Is Noel okay?!]

“I’m fine,” Noel said into a mouthful of fur. He peeled the moogling off him. “What about you?”

[Mogki not hurt!] The moogling suctioned itself to Noel’s face again. [But Mogki was scared, kupo!]

“It’s—Mogki, stop—it’s okay now, you can—Mogki, that tickles…!”

As Noel struggled to calm the agitated moogling, he caught a glimpse of the boy staring, rapt, at the tiny creature. Noel remembered that Serah had a similar expression when he had first brought her Mog; on their world, moogles were toys or, what had she said? A ‘theme park mascot.’ Noel could tell the boy wanted to ask about it.

Mogki squirmed out of Noel’s grip, but finally settled on top of his head much to Noel’s relief. The moogling puffed out, shaking a scolding paw at the pale-haired boy. [Hey, kupo! Stupid boy shouldn’t attack Noel! Noel’s super strong, kupo!]

“Mogki,” Noel warned, reaching up to silence the moogling.

But it just fluttered out of his reach, popping up in the boy’s face, shoving its berry nose against his. [Huh? Huh?]

The boy stumbled back, flustered. “I wasn’t—I thought…” He clutched an arm defensively, staring sullenly at the moogling from beneath pale lashes. “I thought he was a monster.”

[Noel’s no monster, kupo! Noel’s Noel!]

Noel plucked the irate moogling out of the air, smooshing it against his chest when it squirmed. “All right, okay. No need to defend my honor.” Noel offered the boy a contrite smile. “Sorry about that.”

“Yeah… “ The boy rocked on his heels, uncomfortable but he no longer perceived Noel as a threat. “So is that… some kind of toy?”

[Toy!?] The moogling wiggled out of Noel’s grip. Offended, it buzzed around the boy’s head. [Mogki’s Mogki, kupo! And Stupid Boy’s stupid!]

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” the boy said, ducking away.

[Hmph.] The little moogling seemed somewhat satisfied with the hasty apology. It plopped back on top of Noel’s head, folds its arms over its tiny chest. [Mogki guess Mogki can forgive Boy for being stupid, kupo.]

Noel scratched a cheek sheepishly. The boy looked utterly mortified at being chastised and insulted by a baby moogle. “Er, Mogki’s a moogle, not a toy. Do you know about them?”

“I think… I remember seeing something like one before… “

“You might see a few around here. They’re interdimensional travellers, so some end up here.”

The boy’s brow crinkled. “Interdimensional—?”

“You’ll probably find out more about all that when you reach Sanctuary—that tower.” Noel paused. “Are you sure you don’t want my help? It’s still a few days travel on foot—you know how to make it out in the wild?”

“I’m sure. Thank you. I can manage just fi—” A low growl interrupted the boy, rattling loud from his midsection.. A brief look of annoyance crossed innocent features. “I can mana—” And his tummy rumbled again.

Noel blinked and the boy’s cheeks flooded with red. He looked away in irritated embarrassment.

Trying not to smile to spare the boy’s pride, Noel nonchalantly folded his hands behind his head and studied the sky. “You know, you did scare off my dinner. And you also attacked me when I didn’t do anything wrong. So before you go, you should make up for it with some food.”

Mogki agreed with a loud kupo.

The boy scowled, rubbing at his red cheeks. “I don’t have any.”

“Then get some.”

“I don’t know how to hunt or cook,” he protested and his stomach agreed loudly.

“Good thing I can do both.” Noel smirked, walking past him without a second glance; but in a few moments, Noel could hear him trailing behind with unsure steps.

“It’s Hope,” the boy mumbled suddenly. “I remember that my name is Hope.”

Noel wasn’t sure if he was relieved or worried by this confirmation. He smiled over his shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you, Hope.”

Hope nodded, eyes downcast. “Yeah, you too… uh, Noel.”

( _Most likely he was summoned to counter my presence._ ) But why Hope? There were far more significant people in Noel’s life than the scientist who was working to save Noel’s future. And even so, he couldn’t imagine the reason his other would be a younger Hope, one that he had never even met.

( _Goddess, what are you planning?_ )

( _Have you finally gained the courage to protect all that you’ve grown to love?_ )

 

 

  
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He lost track of the cycle count.

He spent his days aimlessly, criss-crossing back and forth over the world. At first it was to search for a way out; then it was just something to keep him occupied. He grew to know the lands well: the flora and the fauna, the bizarre clash of dimensions that would alter the landscape from a forest to the surface of the moon, the preferred haunts of the other warriors.

He was alone most of the time. He had Mogki and he loved the moogling dearly, but there was no comparison to another human voice, another human body. His main human contacts were either battles from opponents or a fleeting visit from the few warriors he was cordial with. These meetings were like water to a parched tongue, but they made the forthcoming solitude more empty.

He tried to make a friend, a lasting comrade. But his opponents only saw him as an enemy and his allies were too vested in their own interests or inaction. And it frustrated him to be disconnected from people when people were right there in front of him, so he shut them out and immersed himself in self-exile.

During those early days, he dreamt often of that other world, of a dark-haired girl cold in his arms, of a blue-eyed woman whose fingers he couldn’t grasp. He’d wake up with his face wet with tears, clutching Mogki tight, wondering how he could save them if he couldn’t save himself.

Yet as the cycles rolled on, he became accustomed to his isolation and the dreams came less. Some days, when the nights were so bright that it seemed almost like daylight, he could recall their faces or almost hear their voices.

But mostly they were ghosts in his mind and soon he stopped dreaming of them completely.

And he lost track of the cycle count and any sense of purpose. Both the past and the future ceased to have meaning or hope.

It didn’t matter. This place existed between moments of time, frozen in eternity.

His days were now a long lonely dream, not much different from a dying world.

 

 

  
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Cupping his hands over his mouth, Noel called down to the tiny figure below. “Tired already?”

Hope didn’t have the breath to reply, trudging up the steep incline stubbornly. Spots of bright color splotched his pale cheeks from the effort of scaling the mountainous terrain. He tugged at the blue and orange kerchief around his neck, fanning it to try to cool off.

“Just a little further!” Noel called again encouragingly, trying not to smile when Hope shot him the dirtiest look the boy could manage at the moment. Instead, Hope came off looking like a disgruntled housepet.

Mogki was unimpressed. [Ho-po so slow.]

“I don’t think he’s used to roughing it,” Noel said, somewhat amused. He was having a hard time imagining that this introverted, naive, and delicate teenager would grow up into a visionary leading the world into a bright future.

While Sanctuary wasn’t far, their progress the last couple of days had been slow. The terrain was difficult, even for the experienced. To Hope’s credit, he never complained, but Noel wondered if it’d just be easier if he piggybacked Hope to Sanctuary.

Not that Noel objected to the slow progress. He still didn’t know what to do about Hope.

( _Trapped here in the cycles…_ )

Finally Hope stumbled up to the top of the ridge and flopped down to the ground with a relieved sigh, his arms like lead at his sides. A refreshing breeze ruffled his hair and he turned his sweaty face into it.

“Wow…” The gasp of awe was involuntary.

Noel grinned, folding his arms over his chest. “Nice view, huh?”

The ridge rimmed a verdant valley of mountains and forests, their green hues muted by the overcast sky and a foggy haze. Frothing white waterfalls tumbled down between emerald clefts cut into the sharply pointed peaks, crashing into unseen waters. Far and away the valley wove its tapestry and in the far horizon at its end, Sanctuary shined like a star amid blue, snow-sheathed mountains.

The ache of climbing the ridge forgotten, Hope leaned forward on his hands. “It looks like a fairytale.”

“Why don’t we take a break?” Noel squinted at sky, the sun a pale disc behind grey clouds in the west. “We still have another day or two of travel. Let’s stop for today and start early tomorrow.”

“No arguments here.” Sitting back and stretching out his sore legs, Hope closed his eyes and let the wind embrace him.

Noel dropped down beside him, leaning back on his hands. “Once you’re feeling up to it, we’ll climb down a little and set up camp.”

“Why not stay here? It’s nice up here.”

“Out in view like this?” Noel wagged a finger. “Good way to get attacked.”

“By monsters?” They had encountered a few ravenous beasts on their journey—and hunted a few more. Fighting monsters felt familiar but not natural to Hope, so he often let Noel handle the bulk of any encounters.

“Not just monsters,” Noel said, mouth a hard line. The odds of running into a mankin or a minion of Chaos was slim this close to Sanctuary, but better safe than sorry until Hope had a better understanding of what he was brought into.

Hope’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Noel shook the dark expression off his face. “You’ll find out all about that when you arrive at Sanctuary.”

“That’s been your answer to everything I ask.” The boy picked up a rock and chucked far out into the valley.

“It’s not my place to tell you.” Noel rubbed the back of his neck in mute apology. “Don’t worry. I'll get you safely to Sanctuary and then you’ll find out everything you need to know.”

“But not everything I _want_ to know, huh,” Hope muttered under his breath. “Honestly,” he continued in a louder voice, “it’s hard to trust you when you’re so secretive.”

Noel tilted his head. “Have I led you astray yet?”

“... it’s the ‘yet’ that worries me.”

“I said I’ll get you to Sanctuary,” Noel’s voice was firm, “and I mean it.”

Faded green eyes searched Noel’s face for deception. He met that gaze resolutely; he never lied.

“Weirdo,” Hope mumbled, looking out to the valley.

Noel supposed that was as close to a compliment he was going to get.

 

 

  
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A translucent bridge of light spanned the shining sea below, passing through a pair of soaring arches rising like wings from the waves. Beyond, the tower of Sanctuary rose high to disappear into clouds, gleaming opalescent in the bleached sun.

Noel stopped before the bridge and waved behind him for Hope to hurry up. “You’re almost there, Hope! Come on!” Mogki echoed his sentiments with a loud chirp.

Huffing, the boy dragged himself over the crest of the hill, stooping over beside Noel. “This is it?” he asked between breaths. “Cause I don’t think I can climb another mountain.”

“Yeah,” Noel nodded. He pointed. “Cross the bridge and you’ll be in Sanctuary.”

Straightening, Hope eyed the pass. It was not wide and had no rails. Through it, the ocean could be seen frothing white. “... is it safe to cross?”

“It wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

Hope still had his doubts. He moved to the edge and peered down at the rolling water below before drawing back. “You go firs—” He stopped, glancing around quickly.

“Hope?”

Hope’s head shot up. “What’s…?”

Noel followed his gaze; a black shape was hurtling at them, glittering in the white sky. He grabbed Hope by the shoulders and jerked them out of the way, landing hard on the rock with Hope atop and Mogki clinging desperately to both. The meteor crashed with a resounding boom, dust and chips of stone frothing into the air.

In an instant, Noel was on his feet with lance in hand. Smoke cleared, revealing a tall man in elaborate armor the color of night crouching in a crater of his own making. He bore a helm carved into the countenance of a fantastical dragon, roaring low over his face. The point of a long, wicked spear was driven deep into the earth; if Noel hadn’t moved, he would’ve been skewered.

Noel relaxed, releasing his weapon. “That’s some greeting, Kain,” he said, approaching the rising dragoon. He waved away the settling dust as the moogling flopped onto his head with a warbled hello. “Almost made me think you wanted a fight.”

“There will be one if you attempt to pass,” the dragoon said.

Noel spread his hands. “Wasn’t planning on it. I don’t really feel like dealing with that Guardian right now anyway.” He jerked a thumb at a confused Hope. “I was just showing your latest recruit the way.”

Kain’s head swiveled toward the boy. Hope shifted under the unseen gaze, but stared back steadily.

“Rather unusual for you to be assisting us so,” Kain finally said, turning back to Noel.

Noel shrugged, feeling Hope’s questioning look. ( _He’ll find out eventually._ ) “What I do with my own time is my business.”

“Is that so.” But Kain dismissed his weapon and motioned Hope toward him. “Come, boy. Cosmos awaits.”

Hope hesitated, his eyes still questioning as he glanced back and forth between Noel and the dragoon. “Noel, what’s…?”

Noel smiled ruefully. “You better get going. Shouldn’t keep a Goddess waiting.”

“Oh,” was all Hope said and he turned his face toward the tower. But he didn’t move. “What about you?”

“Did you start liking my company?” Noel teased, poking Hope in the back. “I’m touched. But I can’t go any further.”

Shooting Noel a flat look, Hope’s hands brushed at where he was poked, as if cleaning away something dirty. But bolstered by Noel’s teasing, he quickly moved forward, stopping before the bridge uncertainly.

[Bye-bye, Ho-po!] Mogki waved. [Try to be less stupid, kupo!]

“Hey, Hope!” Noel called after him. Hope turned his head a fraction of an inch. “Don’t die, okay? You have to stay alive, no matter what.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” Hope muttered. His fists clenched and with a deep breath, he placed a foot on the bridge of light. Despite its insubstantial appearance, it held his weight and he cautiously crossed the span, passing under the arches.

Noel rubbed the back of his head as he watched the boy disappear into white light. He really didn’t want to be separated from Hope, but the circumstances made it difficult to remain with the boy who would eventually grow up and become one of Noel’s few friends. He shrugged to himself and turned to leave.

But Kain blocked his way, lance in hand once more.

Noel raised a brow. “Are you challenging me?”

“You know him.”

Noel studied the dragoon for a moment; the carved helm hid Kain’s thoughts. The two had known each other for many cycles; Kain didn’t remember all their meetings, but Noel did. He had learned quite a bit from Kain about the lance—and had defeated Kain in several cycles when the dragoon didn’t remember him.

“Something like that,” Noel sighed, folding his arms over his chest.

“Your other, then.”

“Something like that,” Noel repeated and made to move past Kain.

The dragoon held out his lance to stop him. “Will you fight that boy?”

Noel glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “If he challenges me, yeah.”

“And will you be able to fight him?”

“What makes you think I can’t? What’s with all the questions?”

Kain lowered his weapon after a moment, allowing Noel to pass. “A child like that will break easily. Purification will not be easy were he to die.”

Noel stopped, snorting. “He’s stronger than he looks. On our world, he’ll save the future.” He held up two fingers over his shoulder. “Twice.”

“That amounts for naught here. This place remembers and predicts nothing.”

Noel turned, bowing deeply at Kain’s back. “Then I’m counting on you to watch over him, Master Kain.”

The dragoon didn’t reply, leaping high up and disappearing into the white sky.

Noel stared up at the tower of Sanctuary soaring up into wispy clouds. Hope was probably being led to the Goddess by her Guardian right now. She’ll tell him of the conflict between the gods, and that he had been recruited to fight in their little war. He’ll be informed that his memories will return over time and how to recognize his ally from his enemy.

But he won’t be told the true nature of this war, its dirty secret.

“Kupo?” Mogki lightly pinched the tip of Noel’s ear. [You’re being summoned.]

A portal of shifting darkness yawned open behind him; turning away from the cold light of Sanctuary, he stepped within.

His second step was upon a long stairway leading to a high summit, surmounted by a hulking, foreboding throne. The air stunk of brimstone, the scorched earth belching flames into a sky which wept fire.

Garland was waiting at the top of the stair, his heavy armor reflecting red. The sculpted helm he bore was a tribute to the god he served; its monstrous facade followed Noel as the young man passed him.

Ahead sat the God of Discord on his dark throne; a large fiend born of war and violence, but the eyes were humane as Noel approached.

“It is good of you to come, my Guardian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modifying some of Dissidia's "rules" to suit my needs.
> 
> Beta was super busy, so I may have missed a textual error or two. Feel free to let me know.
> 
> Story is complete and chapters will be updated daily.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	2. act i. cycle ix. 2.

**act i. cycle ix. 2.**

He was lost.

Although ‘lost’ was a harsh judgment of his current predicament; certainly he didn’t know where he was, but he also didn’t know where he was going.

There was wilderness as far as he could see, touched with the first heat of summer. A fractured road, the stones choked by green-grey vegetation, was the only sign that civilization had ever passed through here. But he hadn’t seen another soul or come across any settlement during the three days he had travelled over this foreign landscape.

With a loud sigh, Noel plopped down on a broken foundation at the side of the path, wiping sweat from his brow. The road disappeared over hills into the horizon, but it had to end somewhere. All roads led somewhere—even those no longer traversed.

He rested his arms on his knees, chin in hand. He didn’t really understand where ‘here’ was. The dreadful god had only told him he had been called to battle, to fight for Chaos in some war. What he’d seen of this world seemed like a dry echo of some other place, a washed-out imitation of a greater work of art.

None of that mattered to Noel. While he had escaped the Historia Crux, it now seemed he was trapped here in this other dream. Still, if there was a way in, there had to be a way out. So he had set out, determined to find a Gate or a Rift or anything which would allow him to escape and return to his homeworld.

Had Serah gotten trapped in the Historia Crux like he had been? Was she here too? Or was she fighting alone in some timeline back home? Noel had inherited Caius’ legacy, but what was the impact on the paradoxes? The impact on Yeul and Serah or his future? The questions and uncertainty piled on top of each other in his head.

He mucked up his hair in frustration. “I’m no good at these deep things,” he complained aloud.

A cascade of pebbles clattered near him.

Noel jumped to his feet, his double-bladed sword sparking to life, but there was nothing there.

Wary, he circled the foundation.

“Kupo!” came a muffled cry. “Kupopo!” Pudgy little legs waggled at him from a gap in a rubble of rocks, knocking loose more gravel.

“No way… Mog?” Noel asked excitedly, dismissing his weapon and crouching by the rock pile. If Mog was here, then maybe Serah—? “Is that you?” He carefully grasped the furry little limbs and pulled the critter out.

“Kuuuuuuuupo!” the moogle sighed in relief, fluttering unsteadily into the air. It brushed dirt off its fur with tiny paws, not noticing the young man crouched in front of it.

Noel’s heart sank in disappointment. This was definitely a moogle, but it wasn’t Mog. This moogle was a lot smaller and the pompom was shaped differently—huge, round, and fluffy. The moogle also had a big berry nose that was almost as large as its round head, while the wings were tiny and underdeveloped.

A baby moogle?

“Hey,” Noel said, waving slowly at it to catch its attention. “You okay?”

The moogling glanced up and squeaked, darting for cover behind the pile of rocks. Its big pompom drooped out into view.

“Hey,” Noel said again. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He held out his hand, fingers beckoning. “Come on out.”

After a moment, the moogling peeked at him, nose twitching. It shrank back down behind the rock before peeking once more. The tiny ears were laid back against its head in apprehension. [Boy not a bad person?]

Noel smiled. “No. I actually have a friend that’s a moogle like you. His name is Mog. What’s yours?”

The berry nose twitched again and then the moogling crawled out, waddling to Noel’s outstretched hand. It poked a finger before grabbing its pompom and hiding its face behind it. A long eye watched him from behind the pink puff. [Uncle Mog disappeared a long time ago, kupo. Boy sure he know Mog?]

Noel nodded. “I don’t know if he’s your uncle, but I definitely know a Mog.”

The moogling nibbled at a paw, flopping its head this way and that as it studied Noel for a long moment. [Mogki don’t think Boy is lying, kupo.] Having so decided, the moogling hopped onto his palm.

Noel watched the moogling crawl up his arm in bemusement. Maybe the moogle was too young to fly well?

“Is Mogki your name? Mine’s Noel.”

[No-el.] The moogling stopped at his shoulder, patting Noel on the cheek. [Mogki is happy to meet Noel, kupo.] Then it began to climb up.

Noel stifled a snicker when soft fur tickled the sensitive skin at his neck and ear as the moogling pulled itself up and settled firmly on top of his head. Mogki wasn’t very heavy at all, but Noel wondered if the moogling was planning on staying there. Mog usually flew; maybe Mogki really couldn’t fly well after all.

[Kupopopo, Mogki can see everything up here!]

Noel lifted his eyes up, but he couldn’t see the moogling past his fringe of hair. “I bet… Any place that you’re headed to, Mogki?”

[No, Mogki lost, kupo.] The moogling bent over, pompom whacking Noel on the nose, and peered at him upside-down. [Noel lost too?]

“It’s more like I don’t know where I’m going,” Noel said a bit defensively, gingerly brushing the pompom from his face.

Mogki suddenly sat back up and he felt the little creature tug gently at his hair. [Then Mogki go with Noel, cause Mogki don’t know where Mogki going either, kupo.]

“Heh.” Noel grinned to himself. “All right then, Mogki, we can keep each other company. It’s pretty lonely out here. Glad to have you.”

[Mogki glad too, kupo! Mogki stay with Noel so Noel won’t be lonely!]

He reached up and ran grateful fingers over the moogling’s soft fur. “Thanks.”

 

 

  
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Noel stretched, rubbing the sore muscles in his arm and back. The large monster had nearly dislocated his shoulder when his sword got stuck in the bony plates that protected its sensitive hide. But he had persevered; smirking, he patted the rent armor of the carcass in self-congratulation.

[Noel!] Mogki fluttered out of a copse of trees, arms full of roots and leafy green things. [Mogki found a lot of food, kupo!]

“Good job,” Noel said with a broad grin. “Looks like we’ll be eating well tonight.”

A sudden explosion reverberated far away, sending up birds from the trees. Mogki chirped in surprise, dropping its goodies, and darted for the safety of its perch atop Noel’s head.

“Ow, you don’t have to pull.” Noel winced, moving to the edge of the ravine wall and looking out. Not far in the distance, a thin plume of smoke was rising up in the air above the line of green canopies.

[Wh-what is it, kupo?]

A second, smaller explosion boomed and another column of smoke joined the first. “I don’t know.” Noel rubbed his chin. “Probably a fight. Wanna take a quick look?” He slid down the embankment, heading toward the noise.

As he passed through the trees, more explosions followed; eventually he could hear the sound of voices as the wood thinned toward a clearing. Noel crouched down behind a gnarled, moss-crusted tree as another blast shot up dirt and rocks several meters away.

“Kupo!” Mogki squeaked, clamping paws over its ears.

Noel shushed him, peering out. Mogki did the same, paws still clamped to its ears.

[It’s Ho-po!]

“So it is,” Noel murmured. It had been maybe a week since he had left Hope at Sanctuary; he was actually pretty happy to see the boy again and he hoped the feeling would be mutual. He still didn’t know what to do about Hope or the fact that they were on opposite sides, so for now he’d improvise.

However, at the moment Hope was fighting another, shorter boy, this one clad in red armor with a large plume on its helm. Briefly, Noel spotted the flame of Cosmos’ crown like a halo about the red armored boy’s head; why were two allies fighting?

A pillar of fire erupted from under the red knight’s feet, but the little one was quick, darting away like a rabbit. “Again!” he ordered.

“You’re just too fast,” Hope complained, wiping sweat from his chin. “I can’t keep up.”

They’re training, Noel realized with mild amusement. He relaxed against the tree, watching the fight. Hope’s companion wasn’t that bad a teacher, he supposed. But the red-armored boy lacked patience and Hope grew increasingly frustrated by the instruction.

“You have to aim for where you think I’m gonna be! Not where I am right now!” The knight planted fists on his hips in a self-important manner.

“That’s what I’m _doing_ ,” Hope snapped back, temper fraying at the edges.

“Use your sixth sense! You gotta read the flow of battle! Now again!”

Noel was sure neither of the boys realized what occurred next, and even Noel couldn’t quite vouch for it. At the red knight’s order, Hope growled, eyes following the red knight as he darted over the field. Hope held up a hand, as magic swarmed around the boy with barely restrained force… and then the field exploded into tiers of fire, the dancing flames so hot they froze into ice, before splintering into sparkling orbs of water, all gathering together to rise up in a column which exploded in a halo of rain far past the edges of the clearing.

Hope stood at the edge of it all, panting with exertion.

[Whao…] Mogki’s pompom quivered with admiration.

Noel privately agreed, glad they had been outside the mire of destruction. He wondered if Hope’s temper improved with age.

But the little red knight didn’t survive unscathed, though the fact he survived at all surprised Noel. Hope cried out as he saw his friend’s scratches and burns; his foul mood dissipated as he ran to the red knight’s side to immediately drown him in a healing light, babbling apologies.

[Ho-po, Ho-po!] Mogki flew toward the two boys before Noel could stop him. [Ho-po’s so strong and cool! Not stupid at all, kupo!] Noel made a face, but resignedly followed after the moogling.

“Mogki?” Hope exclaimed, eyes wide. The moogling chirped, rubbing its nose against Hope’s cheek.

“A moogle?” his friend asked, inspecting Hope’s healing job and finding it satisfactory. He didn’t seem at all upset by the magical onslaught. “You know it?” He poked Mogki’s pompom and the moogling shied away.

Hope nodded as he glanced past his friend. “But there should be someone… oh.”

Noel lifted a hand in greeting, stopping a few feet away as Mogki rejoined him.

The knight immediately stepped in front of Hope, sword drawn.

“It’s all right,” Hope said, tugging on the remains of the knight’s cape. “He’s not an enemy.”

“He’s part of Chaos,” the knight insisted, eyes trained on Noel.

Hope sighed. “I know. But he’s pretty harmless. Kain knows him.” He tugged again and the other boy finally complied, lowering his sword. “He’s just some guy I caught spying on me and then he helped me out a bit.”

“Oh, I get it.” The red knight shot a dirty look at Noel over his shoulder. “A stalker. You have to watch out for these types, Hope. Someone like you can get easily taken advantage of.”

Noel quirked a brow.

Hope frowned at Noel over the knight’s head. “What are you doing here? Spying on me again?”

“No, I was getting some food, which you once again disturbed.”

Hope’s frown slid away, but he was still wary. “Is that all you do? Eat?”

“Eating’s very important—and it’s even better in company.” Noel smiled, unperturbed. ”You two can join me if you’d like. There’s plenty and seems like you’ve been working hard.”

“What’s your game?” the red knight cut in, emerald eyes suspicious. “Aren’t you supposed to be trying to kill us?”

Noel laughed. “I guess, but I’m not the type to follow rules. I only fight those that challenge me.”

Curiosity flooded Hope’s face. “Kain mentioned something about that to me. What does that mean?”

“Unless you’re looking to fight me, I won’t attack you.” Noel spread his hands. “I’m affiliated with Chaos, but I’m not interested in hunting warriors of Cosmos.”

The little knight snorted. “Must mean you’re pretty strong.”

“Strong?” Hope echoed.

“Picking your battles is a luxury only the powerful have.”

“Is it?” Noel asked, smiling.

The red knight put himself in between Hope and Noel, nudging the former away from the latter. “Don’t trust this guy, Hope… He’s not as harmless as he seems.”

“Maybe…”

“I take that to mean you’re not interested in eating?” The Guardian arched a brow at them.

The two boys exchanged quick looks.

“Well, about that—”

“It’s not like we said—”

“You did offer—”

“Since we’re not going to fight anyway—”

Noel resisted the urge to smile.

 

 

  
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Lunch was broiled meat seasoned with wild herbs, plated beside steamed greens rolled in the meat’s gravy. It smelled heavenly and looked delicious, but Hope’s friend—introduced only as the Onion Knight—stared at his serving like it was toxic sludge.

He elbowed Hope and the pale-haired boy paused mid-bite. “Not going to eat?” Hope asked.

“He could be trying to poison us,” the Onion Knight whispered loudly. Noel heard him clearly from the other side of the cooking fire.

“... you watched me make it,” Noel said, pointing his improvised eating utensils at the knight. “From two feet away. Without blinking the entire time.”

The short boy grunted, still eyeing his plate.

“If you’re not going to eat it, I will,” Hope finally said. He reached for a veggie, but the knight snatched his plate away, gobbling down its contents.

“How is it?” Hope asked.

The Onion Knight didn’t even pause. “It’s edible,” he puffed around a mouthful. “Barely.”

However, despite the Onion Knight’s claim, there were no leftovers between the four of them. The day grew long, the sun crossing past its zenith to begin its daily descent toward evening. Both Hope and the Onion Knight were lethargic from overindulgence, their guard lax due to the bonding through shared food. It seemed like they weren’t planning to go anywhere any time soon.

“So is your name actually Onion Knight?” Noel asked, after he finished cleaning the remains of lunch.

The boy in red blinked; his eyes had been fighting off sleep. “It’s what I go by. I don’t remember my name.”

“Wow, that’s rough,” Noel said and he meant it. Names were personal things.

The Onion Knight fidgeted, unsure of how to take the sympathy in the voice of one he believed to be part of the enemy.

“You know a lot about this world,” Hope said, sensing his friend’s discomfort. “How quickly did you remember things?”

“Pretty quickly,” Noel admitted, stretching out his long legs. He didn’t think he had to elaborate on his special case. “Like I said, I’ve been around.”

“So you have all of your memories back?” the Onion Knight asked.

Noel nodded. “The more you fight, the more you remember.”

“But you said you only fight when someone challenges you.”

“This is any type of fighting—and I fight plenty of monsters. Not much else to do around here after all, and most of the warriors on Chaos’ side are terrible company.” He shrugged. “Though some battles get you better results than others. They say if you fight your other, you’ll remember more quickly.”

The Onion Knight snapped his fingers. “I heard about the others—your opposite from the same homeworld, right?”

“Yeah. No one’s here by coincidence—you and your other have a connection and that’s what helps trigger your memories.”

“So is your other here? That why you remember so much?”

Noel could feel Hope watching him and he wondered why the boy was now so silent. “Not everyone has an other. I’ve just been here for a very long time.”

“Wait, how long has this war been going on?”

“I don’t know.” Noel honestly didn’t. “You kind of lose track of time here—probably because it doesn’t actually exist.”

“Oh, man,” the little red knight groaned. “We’re going to be here forever…”

“I hope not,” Hope muttered, cradling his head between his arms. “My mom’s probably worried to death about me.”

Noel glanced sharply at him, but the boy remained hunched over, face hidden.

The Onion Knight caught Noel’s concerned glance. Scowling at the Guardian, he scooted closer toward his companion.

( _I’m just another enemy to them… I exist outside of their circle._ ) After all, he was aligned with Chaos, and he had no history of friendship with this Hope of the past.

When Noel took his leave, only the Onion Knight watched him go.

 

 

  
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Noel could honestly say he wasn’t following Hope. It rubbed at him that he couldn’t stick close and he worried for the boy’s survival. But for now, it seemed prudent to maintain his distance, especially when Hope was with other warriors of Cosmos.

Yet by chance or fate he ran across the pair again, this time facing off against a looming manikin in heavy armor. They were having trouble against the living doll; Hope was still too inexperienced and the Onion Knight, while quick, could not penetrate the manikin’s solid, crystalline skin with his small sword and fledgling magic.

Noel intervened without hesitation; it was short work for him, not even a warm-up. The Onion Knight shot him a scathing glare; Noel heard him mutter ‘show off’ under his breath. And he didn’t seem surprised to see the Guardian—’you stalker’ was written clearly across his face in accusing letters.

Hope collapsed, leaning back on his hands and trying to catch his breath. Mogki fluttered over to him, burbling happily. “What was that thing?”

“A manikin,” Noel said curtly. “Short story: they’re mindless copies of the people stuck in this place. Bad news all around, so you’re better off avoiding them if you can.”

The Onion Knight helped Hope to his feet and the pale-haired boy dusted himself off. “Yeah, um, thanks for the help... ” Hope said, bobbing his head.

Noel smiled briefly in welcome. “What are you two doing this far north?”

“Exploring,” replied Hope as the knight elbowed him in the side. Hope shot him a look. “He just saved us.”

“You probably shouldn’t be up here,” Noel said, somber. “You’re running close to Chaos territory and the terrain also gets dangerous.”

The knight bristled. “Are you saying we’re weak?”

“You couldn’t take down a manikin between the two of you. I’m saying you shouldn’t be here.”

Scowling, the Onion Knight fell silent. He couldn’t argue with that. The two boys exchanged a long, uncertain look.

Noel plopped a hand down on each of their heads, gently turning them around like wayward puppies. “I’ll stay with you for a bit—escort you out of these moors.”

Neither of the boys really cared for the stab to their pride, but they also didn’t have too much of a choice. They shuddered to think what would happen if they encountered another one of those manikins—or worse, a group of them.

So reluctantly they allowed Noel to lead them back south. But evening fell before they were left the boundary of the moors; Noel quickly found a cavity wedged between a boulder and a dead tree where they could screen themselves from prying eyes and the cool night. Their fire was small, craftily hidden, and dinner was modest, but warm, filling, and better than what the two boys had partaken of late.

Hope watched Noel manage all this with admiration. Even the Onion Knight was grudgingly impressed. But conversation between the three was stilted and the hours passed slowly.

“I’ll stay awake to make sure he doesn’t do anything funny,” the Onion Knight whispered when Noel moved to the mouth of their little hollow, watching the night. “So you go ahead and sleep, okay?”

“Okay…” Hope replied uncertainly.

However, the Onion Knight, try as he might, couldn’t keep his eyelids open. The exertion of their battle against the manikin combined with the comforting pop of the fire and the food in his belly was waging a war he couldn’t win.

“Ah!” Hope exclaimed when the red knight suddenly slid against him, head flopping onto his lap with a soft snore.

Noel smirked from where he sat across the fire. “I was wondering how long he was going to last. Half an hour, not bad.”

Carefully, Hope extracted himself from his friend, drawing the knight’s cape over him. “He really doesn’t trust you.”

“I know. Do you?”

“I think it’s strange that you keep helping us,” Hope said.

“What’s strange about helping people?”

Hope watched him. “Kain had also said it was strange for you to be helping us, before—when you took me to Sanctuary.”

“Want to fight instead?”

Hope didn’t reply, picking at the weeds sprouting from the earth and pitching them into the crackling fire.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started slowly. Noel tilted his head at him. “About us. I mean—” he rushed on, “all of us. Why we’re here and with no memories.”

Noel raised a brow; did Hope figure out the cycle of death and rebirth, and that memories were the price of purification?

“I think,” the boy continued, twisting blades of grass around nervous fingers, “I think memory solidifies our existence here. Maybe we start as nothing more than like those manikins until we regain our memory and our identity.”

“I never thought of it that way. Could be something to it though. They say you get more powerful the more you remember.”

“Really?” Hope raised bright eyes at the Guardian. “I hope I remember quickly, then.”

“What do you need to get powerful for?”

“I—I don’t know. Win this war so I can go home? I feel like… there’s something really important back home and I need to become strong. I want to remember it but I’m… scared to go back home. I… “ Hope trailed off and he scrubbed his shoe against the dirt.

“A while back, I remembered that my mom… that she,” Hope swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of his pants tight, “she died. And while we were fighting those manikins, I remembered that she died because of someone else. Because of what was happening to us. I—” Hope gritted his teeth, muscles in his jaw working, “I have to get strong so I can kill the people that took her from me.”

Noel listened; he only knew bits and pieces of Hope’s past, but he had no idea the breadth of Hope’s anger over what had happened to his mother.

( _He had said he had nearly lost himself…_ )

“It seems counterintuitive to repay death with more death,” Noel finally said.

Hope surged forward and Noel instinctively held up a hand in peace. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, okay?” the boy snapped. “I know it doesn’t bring her back and it probably won’t even make me feel better. I know that.”

“Then why waste your time on it?”

“You don’t understand,” and the heat simmered down to a sullen frown. Hope settled back, hugging his knees close to his chest.

“I guess not. People died around me often, so it’s not something I consider appropriate for any situation.”

Hope’s lips twisted. “There’s no one you ever wished were dead?”

Noel looked down, folding his hands together, remembering the life that faded beneath his fingers in some other dream in some other place. “Even when he sought to destroy my future, I never _wanted_ to kill him.”

The fight drained out of Hope and he picked at the dirt.

The spit of the fire and the Onion Knight’s wheezing snores filled the silence between them.

“Is that why you said ‘don’t die’ to me even though you knew we were enemies?”

“Hm?”

“At Sanctuary.” Hope’s foot worked at a rock embedded in the earth. “You told me not to die.”

“It’s better than good-bye, right?”

Hope stared at Noel in disbelief. “You’re weird. Isn’t that what ‘see you later’ is for?”

“Well, if you don’t die… then I’ll definitely see you later.” A faint smile spread across Noel’s face.

“But if you see me later, that means I haven’t died.”

Noel wagged a finger at Hope. “Not dying is the important part though. The seeing you later is a bonus.”

Hope rubbed his temples. “You’re making my head hurt.”

Noel laughed. “Go to sleep, Hope. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Yeah, if there’s anything I know about you, it’s that you don’t want me to die for some reason.” Hope lowered himself by the Onion Knight and curled up, his back toward the Guardian. “Noel?”

“Yeah?”

“You killed that guy, didn’t you? The one you were talking about?”

“... yeah.”

Hope curled up tighter. “I’m going to kill the ones responsible for my mother’s death. I’m going to get strong, and when I get out of here, I’m going to kill whoever they are.” But he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“... Good-night, Hope.”

 

 

  
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They were constantly pulled together, Noel realized after several more chance meetings, like opposite magnets seeking each other despite the miles in between. This was probably an effect of being others of one another, a sort of collective subconsciousness calling out to the one closest to them in memory.

No doubt the impression of ‘stalker’ was firmly planted in the minds of Hope’s regular comrades, but since Hope never argued his presence, it became more of a joke than anything of consequence. And Noel had a feeling that Hope had his own suspicions; the boy’s large eyes were often glued to him during quiet moments, when he thought Noel wasn’t paying attention.

Noel didn’t say anything. He knew Hope would eventually confront him about it.

 

 

  
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Noel discovered the nature of the cycles due to Kain.

He first encountered Kain among the shadows of a blue, moonlit tundra, the dragoon shooting from the deepening sky like a falling star, nearly impaling him with his long, wicked spear. Golbez, who was with the Guardian, immediately began a counterassault, dark magic separating the dragoon away from Noel.

The battle was fierce, but the warriors of Chaos were ultimately victorious. Noel didn’t want to kill the dragoon, but he did it to save Golbez from a fierce onslaught. He sadly watched the body shed its light into the cold sky, wondering if the battle could’ve been avoided.

The black-armoured thaumaturge clasped him on the shoulder. The two shared a kindred spirit in their lack of desire to fight the warriors of Cosmos and Noel liked him despite his solemn personality. They weren’t quite friends—Golbez was too much a loner—but they were friendly, which was more than what Noel had before. “Things are not always what they seem, Guardian.”

Noel didn’t understand the strange consolation, not until a few days after the world flashed gold.

The attack that came was almost the same as before, though the place and time were different. Mogki spun away in one direction as Noel rolled in the other, flipping onto his feet to face his assailant.

He was so surprised by by what he saw that he was impaled fatally in the chest.

When Noel awoke to the pain of his Heart mending his wounds, Mogki was sobbing in grief but the ghost of the dragoon was gone.

He met the dragoon again soon afterwards, but this time there was no ambush. The dragoon was just sitting on a rock, lance comfortably nestled close, waiting.

Noel stopped. Silence stretched between the two as they studied each other.

“Kupo?” Mogki piped up, glancing from one to the other.

Finally the dragoon stood, spinning his lance easily in one hand before dipping the point downward in a token of parley. His dragonic helm hid his face in shadow, but his body assumed a relaxed stance. “It is not everyday one meets a living dead man.”

“I could say the same thing,” Noel replied, and the atmosphere lost some of its tension.

They talked—but not easily, exchanging only tidbits of knowledge as they tested for weakness in the other. However Noel learned that Kain didn’t remember the battle in which he had died by Noel’s hand.

Later, Noel told Golbez about his meeting with Kain; the thaumaturge was pleased to hear of the dragoon’s revival. And as Golbez explained the true nature of the war between Harmony and Discord, Noel felt his stomach knot up a little.

“It is an unending war. The two sides are pitted against another until one is defeated. Yet there will be no songs of victory. For all the defeated and fallen shall be revived, their memories taken as reparation, and the conflict begun anew. There is no end. Failing purification means an eternity of nothing, a fate worse than death. We are prisoners here, Guardian, with no hope of release.”

 

 

  
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“You’re not really afraid of anything, are you?” The question was asked with half-admiration, half-wariness and Noel felt that tone perfectly explained their relationship at this point.

“I’m afraid of plenty of things.” Noel grinned at Hope and turned to walk backwards, hands tucked behind his head. Mogki leaned over to toy with his fingers.

It was just the two of them this time; Hope and his companion—a brash teenager named Zidane—had split up to explore opposite sides of the mountain. This time it had been Hope who had found Noel, dozing up in a tree. Feeling mischievous, Hope had scrambled up the tree, ready to roar like a monster in Noel’s ear—and instead had received a finger flick to the forehead for his troubles. Still, Noel was pleased that Hope didn’t avoid him.

“Like what?” Hope challenged, a brow raised.

“Well, I’m plenty afraid of you,” the Guardian said after a moment’s consideration, dancing quickly out of Hope’s reach as the boy swiped at him.

“I’m serious.”

“And you’re saying I wasn’t?”

[Mogki agree, Ho-po can be very scary!]

Hope rolled his eyes. “I’m saying that you don’t seem to be afraid of… you know, normal things. Like getting hurt or dying or anything like that.”

Noel slowed. “Are you worried about me?”

Hope flushed, kicking at the ground. “Don’t be stupid. You’re just not normal.”

“And you are? Because you’re afraid of those things?”

“Everyone is.”

“Everyone includes me.” Noel shrugged. “But I don’t let fear stop me. I have things I have to do, and focusing on those goals is why I don’t consider the consequences of my fears.”

Hope reached behind him, pulling out his survival knife and exposing the blade. He bit his lip, staring down at it with eyes fogged by memory. “It feels like,” he began softly, half to himself, “someone told me something like that before.”

“They knew what they were talking about.” Noel had a pretty good idea who would fill Hope’s mind with that sort of mentality.

With a snick, Hope snapped the knife closed, tucking it away. “I can’t remember who.”

Noel smiled faintly, walking on. “You will eventually.” Mogki chirped in agreement.

Hope stared after them before sighing. “Right.” He jogged to catch up.

“Still,” and Noel couldn’t help shooting his companion a cheeky grin, “it’s pretty cute that you’re worried about me. Guess we’re friends now, huh?”

“I’m not worried about you,” Hope said flatly.

“Since you’re worried about me,” Noel continued as if he didn’t hear, “I’ll let you in on something I’m afraid of.”

An exasperated noise rose from the back of Hope’s throat and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m afraid of being alone.”

The statement took Hope by surprise. He stared up at the Guardian, who smiled back sincerely.

“Where I come from… there weren’t a lot of people left. And eventually, I was the only one.” Noel scratched the back of his head. “So I don’t like being alone. I’m afraid of being left alone. So I’m glad that in this place, I have Mogki. And now you.”

Hope dropped his gaze to the ground, biting his lip. He seemed too taken aback to refute any claim of their growing friendship.

Noel chuckled, nudging shoulders with the mage. “Cait Sith got your tongue?”

Hope glanced at him briefly. “I guess… you’re kinda normal after all.”

“Thanks,” Noel said, humming. “So if you’re worried about me, just don’t die.”

“I’m doing my best,” Hope grumbled.

With a broad smile, the Guardian wrapped an arm around Hope’s slim shoulders, pulling him close as they walked. The boy didn’t protest. “Don’t worry—I’ll be here to help you with that.”

“Even if I’m your other?” Hope craned his neck to look up at him.

“Ah, so you figured it out.”

Hope nodded. “I thought there had to be a reason why you’re stalking me all the time. I asked Kain and he told me his suspicions.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. I knew you were my other the moment I saw you.”

Hope frowned. “I … don’t remember you at all...”

Noel ruffled Hope’s hair; the boy reflexively batted his hand away. “You never will. I don’t actually exist in your memories.”

The boy blinked, brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“On our homeworld, you and I—well, we haven’t met.”

“Is that why you’re so friendly to me? Some of the other warriors are bitter enemies with their others.”

“Well, I’m friendly because I like you.” Noel grinned, squeezing Hope’s shoulders. “But we don’t have any history like that.”

Hope rolled his eyes. “So we’re from the same homeworld…” He drifted off in thought. “Wait, you said—you said where you’re from there’s no one left. You mean you’re the only person left in the world?”

“In about seven hundred years from your time.”

Hope jerked away, incredulous. “What? What do you mean? What happens? How do you—”

Noel pressed a hand over Hope’s mouth to stop the line of questions. “What would you do with that knowledge?”

Hope tugged away Noel’s arm, earnest in his concern. “Well, I remember—I remember that the people I was with… we were cursed.” He pulled at the orange sash around his left wrist, exposing a black brand staining the pale skin. “We were enemies of our world and were tasked to destroy it…” He wrapped his fingers around the mark, biting his lip. “So this means we succeed …”

Noel tapped a finger against the line of sorrow marring Hope’s forehead. “No, that’s not what happened.” He smiled faintly. “So relax.”

Hope’s shoulders sagged. “Then that means we failed…? So we became Cie’th…”

Taking the sash from Hope, Noel re-wrapped it around his wrist, hiding the brand. “You didn’t become Cie’th either.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I live in a time seven hundred years after the fact.”

“And this somehow lets you know what happened to some kid?” Hope was skeptical. “You really are a stalker.”

“Hey. Maybe I just know because you’re my ancestor or something.”

Pale green eyes widened. “What? Really?”

Noel’s cheeks puffed out as he choked on a chuckle. “That would be something if it were true,” he snickered.

An sulking flush bloomed on Hope’s cheeks and he folded his arms over his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Noel held up his hands. “But that did get you to lighten up a bit.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Hope rocked on his heels, looking everywhere but at Noel, suddenly self-conscious. “So … what should we do…?”

“About what?”

Hope gestured between them. “Us. We’re others, right? You said nothing happens by coincidence. I mean… aren’t we supposed to fight each other?”

“Do you want to fight?”

“I don’t think I could win.”

“Let’s say you could; would you want to?”

“... no.”

“Well, there’s your answer. We don’t do anything we haven’t been doing. I don’t see why we have to follow some silly rule.”

The faintest, briefest of smiles flitted across Hope’s lips. “I guess I could live with that.”

Noel stayed a couple of days with Hope on the mountain after their little truce. Hope was rather pleasant company, and it was nice being with someone who didn’t always talk about the war, or the cycles, or doom and gloom, or could actually hold and maintain a conversation for more than several sentences. Noel realized he missed being around a friend—and he considered Hope a friend even if the feeling probably wasn’t wholly reciprocated—something he had gotten used to in his travels with Serah, back in that other time in that other dream.

He taught the boy how to survive in the wild, showing him how to build a hidden fire and to find water and to trap small game.

“I’m surprised,” Noel said at one point, observing Hope awkwardly skin a leporine mammal with his knife. The boy’s face was a study of concentration. “You’re not squeamish at all.”

“I’m trying really hard not to hurl,” Hope replied, eyes locked on the blade peeling back fur. “Please don’t talk to me.”

Noel laughed.

Those few days were fantastic, and Noel felt like he had recovered something he had lost. But they ended too soon, and Hope reunited with Zidane, and the two set off together, leaving Noel alone again.

 

 

  
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Noel wasn’t there when Hope was defeated; he had heard about it from Kain afterwards.

It was many days before the cycle refresh. Noel wondered how much Hope would remember when they met again, how many of his memories were sacrificed to be reborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mogki is from FF6, one of the moogles in Narshe Cave, and has been featured in another one of my works...
> 
> Thanks for reading. Commentary always welcome.


	3. act i. cycle x.

**act i. cycle x.**

His eyes opened to a flash of silver and instinct saved him as he leapt back. A sword cleaved through empty air with a whistle, the afterimage of its shining steel echoing its trajectory. The hunter inside wanted his weapons so dual swords materialized in his hands, the short bladed gladius clashing against an overhand strike.

 _My name is Noel Kreiss._ Memory flickered like a spluttering candlelight.

A stiff-faced man in full armor and shield swung his broadsword again, bearing down on Noel with steady determination but no malice. Noel had no idea who this man was or why he was being attacked; he fought defensively as he tried to remember.

_I’m the last of humanity._

A quick assessment of his surroundings revealed he was in a large chamber of ruins, half consumed by weeds. An unfamiliar starry sky loomed beyond the crumbling roof. His feet kicked up bone-dry dust and smashed brittle vegetation. The stench of years beyond count hung in the air.

_I sought a miracle._

His implacable opponent continued to push him back, steel scraping steel as Noel met every thrust with a parry of his own. Noel shouted questions, demanding the who’s, what’s, and why’s, but the mouth on that stern face yielded no answers.

_So I crossed into the Unseen Realm and met the champion of the Goddess._

The broadsword moved deftly, knocking aside Noel’s own and biting into the hunter’s arm.

_And I was tasked to save the future._

Noel gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on his weapons. His sword lashed out in a feint, drawing back before the curved steel met shield, and he twisted his body to drive his short blade far in from the side.

_I travelled the expanse of time with my partner and friend._

The ploy worked and his opponent relinquished his advance. If this foe would not explain himself, then Noel would subdue him and get answers that way. Grimly, Noel stepped forward, no longer on the defensive but not looking to kill, as memories continued to fill him.

_We were fighting my mentor, who sought to erase Time itself._

His opponent was nonplussed by Noel’s sudden advance, calmly searching for openings within the flurry of Noel’s blades. Then, at a brief lull in attack, the armoured warrior sprang back and gestured. Hairs pricked on the back of Noel’s neck; his eyes flicked up as thick icicles rained down.

_But we fell into a trap and became separated._

His blades cleaved two and he dodged two more. The fifth sliced harmlessly through the thick fabric of his sirwal. The sixth buried deep his thigh, burning icy-hot. The crystalline shard faceted red and his head pounded.

_I met him alone and he challenged me._

Noel had no time to attend to the wound as the warrior’s shield lashed out horizontally, starlight dancing along its edge, sharp as a knife. Pain fuzzing the edges of his vision, Noel deflected the blow, but he stumbled under the weight of it, agony screaming up his wounded leg.

_We fought._

He felt more than saw the armored warrior’s sword move; grimacing, ignoring the fire pulsating through his nerves, he forced his body to dodge—but it was a trick, and pain blossomed anew in his skull as a shield smashed into his face, breaking his nose with a crunch. He gasped through the blood filling his nostrils, staggering, and a quick breeze tickled his wet face. A thin line of heat spread across his neck.

_I killed him._

Noel dropped to his knees, blades clattering into the dust before disappearing into sparks. Eyes unseeing, he numbly pressed his hands to his neck, red pulsating over his fingers. His heart boomed loud in his ears. He was dying.

_I killed him._

Lungs struggling for air, Noel fell forward, forehead pressed against musty stone which quickly became drenched in his blood. He was drowning in pain; his thudding heart seemed determined to pump his remaining blood through his torn throat as quickly as possible.

_I killed him._

Something inside him burst; fire spread through his limbs and he could feel his skin bubbling from its heat. His body twitched, and he clutched at himself, tearing at his wounds, where the skin stretched and itched maddeningly, muscles pulling and knotting, blood searing.

_And I inherited his curse._

Cool air filled his lungs and then pain was gone, as if someone had just turned off the lights and left only the darkness of healing. He shuddered, gasping for breath, slowly lifting his blood-stained but unharmed body from the ground.

The armoured warrior stared at him, the slightest hint of surprise marring his marble face.

The pain was gone, but Noel was still dazed, black tendrils weaving around his limbs like caressing lovers. He hand out a hand and a lance blazed to life in his palm.

_I became ensnared by chaos and then flung into the outreaches of Time._

Dark shadows wreathed the polearm as Noel surged forward to attack his opponent; his movements were different and his purpose no longer hazy. Something else drove him. The armoured man strained against the relentless assault but his sword shattered and his shield split, and Noel, fueled by the strength of chaos as his final memories locked into place, struck the deciding blow.

His foe dropped like a stone, unconscious but not dead. Noel stared down at him, debating what to do, when the body began to glow, the light flaking into weaving pyreflies. He watched them bob through the broken roof and into the stars until nothing was left.

Noel dismissed his lance, shoulders dropping in exhaustion.

“...I met an interdimensional entity,” he recalled his last memory quietly. “And so here I am.”

 

 

 

 

  
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“You’ll lose a lot of valuable meat that way.”

Hope whirled around from the small monster he was intently skinning, blood-stained hands gripping the survival knife tightly, pointing it at Noel.

Noel rubbed the back of his head, feeling the deja vu. ( _Guess he doesn’t remember me after all._ ) He was disappointed that he’d have to go through the entire rigmarole of earning Hope’s friendship and trust again. “Hi.” He waved a hand and Mogki did the same.

The tip of the blade dipped a little. “You’re….” Hope frowned, as if trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. “You’re one of Chaos.” The statement was said slowly and Hope’s frown deepened as if something about the sentence was incorrect.

Noel sighed. “Yeah. One of Chaos.”

[Ho-po forget so quickly…] Mogki snuffled.

“Hooope!” A loud cry pierced the sky and a figure leapt from the trees, bounding to Hope’s side, oblivious to Noel’s presence and admiring the mutilated carcass on the ground. “Wow, nice job! You weren’t kidding when you said you knew how to do this.”

Noel tilted his head at the skinny, brown-haired man, clad in pale blue. A white feathered crown flickered at the man’s brow—a warrior of Cosmos. Noel hadn’t seen him before.

A second person, clad in black leather with a scar tracing down his forehead, loped from the trees after the first. Unlike his companion, this one had his weapon drawn and watched Noel with unblinking steel-blue eyes. The Guardian made sure to keep his stance as easy as possible—this one seemed a bit high-strung and he didn’t want any misunderstandings..

“Huh?” The skinny man blinked, wondering what his two companions were staring at. “Oh, hey there.”

The one in black held out his weapon, light tracing along the engraved lion on its silver blade. “Chaos,” he said and his muscles tensed.

Hope suddenly stepped in front of the scarred young man, holding out an arm to stay the attack.

“Hope?” the one in blue asked. Their friend scowled.

“You… “ Hope’s brow crinkled. “... No… el...?” The name was a question, tentative and unsure.

Mogki crowed happily and a winsome smile tugged at Noel’s lips before he even realized it. “Yeah. It’s me.”

 

 

 

  
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When Noel stepped out of the portal, he was back in that ruined chamber with its starlit ceiling. It felt like he had been facing down that monstrous god for hours, but the night was still fresh.

Noel raked a hand through his hair. ( _A God of Discord, huh?_ ) He really didn’t know what to make of the situation, but he stood by what he had told that god: he wasn’t interested in fighting a war. He just wanted to get back home.

( _Yeul… Serah… are you two okay?_ ) He touched his chest; the Heart of Chaos glowed beneath his fingers. ( _What has changed, now that I’ve inherited this…?_ )

“Fascinating.”

Noel’s head jerked up; a regal man in gold and violet descended with unearthly grace from above, an elaborate staff in hand. Noel couldn’t keep the annoyed look off his face. How many more weird characters was he going to meet?

A black crown of webbed smoke wreathed the man’s brow briefly before dissipating; Noel realized this was the sign of Chaos he had been informed of. ( _This guy is supposed to be one of my ‘allies’..._ )

Ally or not, Noel didn’t care for the detached way this man was regarding him, like a piece of valuable chattel to be taken.

“Who are you?” Noel asked coldly.

“An ally… if so willing.” The man gestured with the staff; his face was like a marble mask. “You may call me Emperor.”

“That’s pretty presumptuous,” Noel said, folding his arms over his chest.

“It’s not presumptuous if it’s true.” The Emperor circled around him and Noel moved away. The Emperor did not smile, but his long-lashed narrow eyes glinted in amusement at Noel’s discomfort. “I saw your battle against that warrior of Cosmos.”

Noel glowered. That meant this Emperor guy also witnessed the power of the Heart of Chaos.

The Emperor tapped the tip of his staff against a high cheekbone. “To die yet not… why, that’s a great power. I see why you were summoned to our aid.”

“I’m not interested in this war.”

“Indeed, who would want to fight a war that doesn’t reap any benefit for the soldiers?” The Emperor lifted a hand, gesturing languidly. “Unless it were to be the chance to return home?”

“And I’m not interested in anything you have to say either. So save it.”

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “You would do well not to cross me.”

Noel shot him an insincere smile. “I thought I was being polite. Sorry. Don’t have a lot of experience with people.”

The Emperor stared him down for a few more moments, pale nostrils flaring in contained irritation. Purple-black waves enfolded him, and he was gone.

Noel hoped that would be the end of that. But he eventually learned why the Emperor had sought an alliance: he had plans to overthrow Chaos yet lacked the power to do so. No doubt an immortal warrior would be a great opponent against a god, but Noel could not be persuaded then or any time thereafter to join forces with the despot.

The Emperor was not someone to be spurned lightly.

“Your immortality is a farce,” the despot confronted him one day. “You can still feel pain and experience dying. So rather, your body isn’t immortal, but your soul is.”

Noel clapped slowly. “Good job. How long did it take you to figure that out?”

The sarcasm slid off the Emperor’s cool demeanor. “Oh, I’ve been watching you for a very long time, Noel.”

“And now you can watch me leave.” Noel moved past him.

“I often contemplate how much fun it would be to fight you, Noel.” The Emperor’s liquid voice spilled his amusement even as his face remained impassive. “To just kill you, over and over again, and relish the agony you must suffer each time.”

Noel bared his teeth in an unfriendly smile over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to challenge me at any time, Emperor. Just remember: you can kill me as much as you want, but I only have to kill you once. Death by an ally’s hands sends you straight to the Void Beyond.”

The Emperor’s smooth facade twitched, languid eyes sharpening like knives to carve up the Guardian.

Noel just waggled his fingers at him in a farewell wave as he walked away.

So like a spider in a web, the Emperor bided his time.

 

 

 

 

  
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Bartz, Hope, and Noel were all seated on a river’s bank, casting crudely made fishing poles with lures of fur and grass into the lazily singing water. The midday sun sparkled across the green water and dragonflies briefly kissed slimy rocks before darting off.

Purring in its slumber, Mogki flopped over and Noel automatically reached up to stop the moogling from rolling off his head. It was a strange thing to be relaxing like this with warriors of Cosmos, without a single care but the heat of the sun and the lack of fish biting.

Squall stood nearby; his shoulders rose in an inaudible, long-suffering sigh. “Bartz, do we really have time for this?”

“You have to take breaks like this once in a while,” the mime said cheerfully, tilting his head backwards to grin at the scarred young man. “Now come on, Squall, throw in a line.”

Squall threw his hands up in the air. “I’m going ahead.”

“What! You can’t leave yet!” Bartz bounced to his feet, hopping onto Squall’s back. The younger man grunted under Bartz’s slight frame, staggering backwards. The two immediately began squabbling.

Noel leaned in toward Hope. “Is this normal?”

Hope nodded in resignation. “Pretty much. They argue even when one of them is sleeping.”

“And they still stick together,” Noel said in admiration, watching Bartz catch Squall in a chokehold. “Must be pretty good friends.”

The two continued to fish as the other two bickered. Noel wondered if they were ever going to catch anything, what with all the noise.

“I’ve never been fishing before,” Hope said, thoughtful. “At least, I don’t think so. My dad… I remembered my dad and I aren’t really talking.” Hope glanced at Noel. “What about your parents?”

Noel shook his head. “I never knew them.”

“Oh… sorry...”

“It’s okay. I didn’t know them, so there’s nothing to be sad about. I never asked about them either.” Noel had thought it was more important to focus on the living, the ones he could hold onto, because soon, those would be gone too.

“Anyway, since my parents were gone, my grandmother raised me.” It felt weird to be talking about her; he had only mentioned her in passing to Serah.

“What was she like? I mean… if you want to talk about it.”

Noel’s eyes grew distant, the rod slack in his hands. “She was stern. A real hardass. She expected you to work hard and honestly. She used to make me stand with buckets of rocks in the afternoon sun whenever I misbehaved.

“But when she told stories, she was like a whole different person. She was good at it too. You could almost see the things she told you, right in front of your eyes. Her storytelling was the highlight of my days. I could sit there and listen to them for hours… And her hands… they were bent with time, rough with work, but so warm. I really loved her.” Noel shook his head. “But she’s gone now; she died before I became of age. I wonder if she saw me now, would she be proud of me?”

“I bet she is,” Hope said quietly. Mogki twittered in agreement.

Noel flashed a smile in gratitude. “Maybe.”

“Then it was just you and your grandmother?”

“Well, there weren’t many left in my tribe when I was born, so everyone was kind of like your family. We all took care of each other. I learned everything I know from them.”

“So,” Hope said, eyes solemn and reflective, “you’re an embodiment of all your tribe had learned, gained, and created. Like... a living legacy for their future.”

“I… never thought of it that way.” The final sum of the remains of the Farseer tribe was rattling around in his skull; from how they hunted, to the dishes they cooked, to the songs they made, and the lore they passed down. “And to think… they didn’t have the time to even teach me everything they knew…”

“Sorry.” Hope cast his eyes downward, biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories.”

“You get good memories with sad memories too, Hope.” Noel smiled.

“But that’s what makes the sad memories sad.”

“And the sad memories make the happy memories happy.” Noel held up a finger. ”If you focus so much on the negative, you’ll miss the moments that count.”

Hope regarded him for a long moment with an inscrutable expression.

“What?” Noel shifted under the stare.

“You’re really strong, Noel.”

Noel looked away. “Not really. I couldn’t save anyone.”

Hope opened his mouth to reply.

“Hooooope!” Bartz’s cry was desperate. “Stop chumming it up and help me! He’s getting away!”

The boy sighed in irritation, handing over his rod to Noel. “I’ll be back.”

Noel grinned. “No, you won’t. You’ll be chasing Squall all over the continent.”

Hope hesitated. He glanced behind him where Bartz and Squall had already disappeared up the sloping banks.

“Go.” Noel cocked his head at the wake of destruction left by Hope’s companions. “Or you’ll lose them.”

“For someone who is afraid of being alone,” Hope said, “you’re sure quick to get rid of me.”

Noel shrugged noncommittally, pulling up his fishing line. “Don’t die.”

“I’ll be back,” Hope replied, and he ran after his friends.

 

 

 

 

  
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Chaos was a dichotomy of human and monster; his visage was born from nightmares but his mind was intelligent, rational, and curious. He was the personification of the chaos that existed in all human hearts: the passion that drove mankind to do deeds both great and terrible.

He rarely interfered with his warriors; Noel wondered if he had any interest at all in this war. Chaos only spoke to Garland and through him; it was Garland who first brought Noel to Chaos’ throne. It was Garland who had delivered Chaos’ second summons.

“You do not fear me,” Chaos had said, but he was not angry—merely curious. “I am a monster and a god and you do not fear me.”

“What’s there to fear?” Noel had replied. “I don’t see a monster or a god.”

Garland delivered a third summons.

 

 

 

 

  
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The long fingers of late afternoon began to stretch over the dappled water, the lazy heat of the day burning away under the cool shadows of the ocean of sky.

Noel was lying back among the short reeds by the riverbank, flicking one of the fishing rods about in the air as Mogki chased after the dancing lure. He stifled a yawn. Several hours had passed and he wasn’t sure why he was still waiting.

Faintly he could hear the pounding of feet and he tilted his head back. An upside-down view of Hope’s cowlick crested the top of the slope, which was quickly followed by the rest of him, his face red with exertion.

“Whoa!” the mage exclaimed, skidding down the grass-slick embankment in his hurry, before tripping over his feet and landing on his hands and knees, almost squashing Noel’s head. He peered down at the Guardian, who blinked back up at him.

“You’re…” Hope tried to catch his breath. “You’re still here. I thought—I thought you would’ve left.”

“Is that why you ran back?”

Hope nodded, sitting back and dusting off his gloves. He seemed embarrassed. “So uh… catch anything while I was gone?”

Sitting up, Noel flicked the fishing rod one last time, tossing around both the lure and Mogki dangling off its end. “Just moogle.”

Hope squinted at the catch over Noel’s shoulder. “Hm, doesn’t look fit to eat. You should throw it back.”

The moogling launched itself at Hope. [Mogki heard that! Mogki’s not dinner!]

Noel laughed as Hope tried to shield himself behind the Guardian from the onslaught of Mogki’s tiny fists.

“My, what a lovely domestic.”

An inky portal gaped wide in the air above the river. Noel pushed to his feet, lance in hand. The Emperor slid out of the gateway and Noel cursed silently to himself for not paying attention to their surroundings.

Hope stood up, Mogki cowering behind him. The boy was silent and Noel could feel the tension radiating from him.

Archly, the Emperor looked around, before settling his cold gaze on Noel. “It has been a while, hasn’t it, Noel?”

“Not long enough.”

“We’ll have to catch up later. My business is with,” and those eyes flicked over to Hope, “this warrior of Cosmos.”

“M-me?” Hope took an involuntary step back, large eyes anxious.

Noel stepped in front of him, breaking the Emperor’s line of sight. “I don’t see why you’d have any business with him.”

The Emperor waved away Noel’s words with a clawed hand. “I’m a warrior of Chaos and he’s a warrior of Cosmos What more do we need?” The Emperor pretended to consider something. “But then, you’re a warrior of Chaos too, aren’t you, Noel?”

“He’s not like you!” Hope said hotly, pushing past Noel.

“Hope,” Noel hissed warningly.

“No, he’s not like us,” the Emperor agreed. “Nor is he like you. He exists quite... differently from any of us.”

Hope glared at the despot.

“Are you wondering what I’m talking about? Has he told you?” The Emperor swept his staff wide. “Have you ever wondered why this war has gone on so long?”

“That’s enough.” Noel grasped Hope’s wrist and pulled him along, Mogki clinging in fright to the boy’s back. “Come on. We’re leaving before he wastes any more of our time.”

“Hope, is it?” the Emperor called after them. “Would you like to know? Just why Noel is the Guardian of Chaos?”

Hope turned large eyes toward Noel. “Guardian… of Chaos?”

Noel grit his teeth, not daring to look at Hope as the boy’s steps faltered a bit. “Later. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Why talk about it later? Why not see the proof now?” The Emperor flipped his staff, and it traced a crest in the air.

The ground beneath their feet flared with pale blue light, burning a magic circle through the grass.

But Noel was prepared for an attack; holding tightly to Hope, he threw himself to the side. Tendrils of lightning stung his legs but they managed to escape the circle before it burst into a frenzy of sparks.

Grasping his polearm, Noel pushed himself up, legs tingling from the shock. Growling, he cast about for the missing Emperor.

“Noel!” And Hope was pulling him down behind him as a relentless rain of fire blasted against the mage’s magic shield.

A bolt fragmented the glyphs forming Hope’s barrier and the boy staggered back against Noel. His defense wouldn’t hold much longer against the Emperor’s superior power. With a frustrated snarl, Noel reached past Hope, shadows of chaos spreading across the barrier and reinforcing it. He knew he was playing into the Emperor’s schemes, but he had to protect Hope.

“Hope,” Noel whispered harshly as he spotted the Emperor atop the embankment, a summoning glyph at his feet. “On three, I need you to move.”

“Wh-what?” Hope flinched as a bolt shattered through his barrier only to be eaten by chaotic energy. Mogki squeaked. “O-okay.”

The Guardian gripped the shaft of his lance. “One…” Mogki clutched tightly to Hope, whimpering. “Two…” Hope tensed as his barrier crumbled. “Three!”

Hope launched himself away as the last vestiges of his shield splintered. He landed hard in the grass as Noel shot forward through the barrier of chaos, straight into the fiery barrage. Magic flames ate through his armor, but he paid it no mind, leaping up high to bring his lance down into the Emperor’s pleased face.

The tip of his weapon crashed against a shining crest. Light flared and Noel twisted away, missiles kiting him.

He landed hard on his feet, but the Emperor was there to meet him, slamming his staff into Noel’s back and sending the Guardian flying. His lance fell from his fingers as he rolled to the base of the slope.

The Emperor lifted his chin, staring down scornfully down at Noel. “I win.”

Noel climbed to his feet, spitting blood to the side. Wounds shined wetly through holes in his armor, but nothing too serious. “Little early to be claiming victory, don’t you think?”

“There are many forms of battle, Noel.”

And searing pain blossomed in Noel’s back as the mines the Emperor had planted burst.

Flames boiled into his body, rupturing vessels and consuming his lungs and licking his spine. Dropping to his knees, he couldn’t even scream and all he could see was white-hot agony. He collapsed, black smoke rising from his decimated back.

Explosions rocked the ground hard; Hope shouted and more explosions thundered. Under the pain a part of Noel was yelling at him to get on his feet, to protect Hope. His ruined lungs gulped for air and he bent his entire willpower just to breathe.

And then a different fire filled him, clean like the sun, and he knew it was Hope pouring all his strength into healing him.

Noel drew a shuddering breath as the healing magic granted him a minor, temporary respite. But his wounds were beyond the extent of a healer; he could feel death waiting past the curtain of curative spells. And there was still the Emperor…

“Stop…” Noel swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. Hope didn’t listen; if anything, the rush of magical warmth became stronger. His Heart could do nothing while the curing spells kept death at bay.

Noel pushed himself upright with a strangled sound, knocking away Hope’s hands. “Emperor...” He fell forward and Hope caught him, holding him carefully.

“Gone,” Hope said, voice tight. “He said he accomplished what he came for. Now stay still.”

“Don’t…” Noel pressed his face against Hope’s neck, the soft fabric of Hope’s kerchief smothering him. His heart pounded in his ears. So the Emperor wanted Hope to witness this? His rebirth? What for?

“But you’re dying!” Hope’s voice hit a hysterical pitch, and if Noel hadn’t been in so much pain at the moment, he would’ve been touched by the mage’s concern.

Noel blindly lashed out, seizing Hope’s hands and gripping them tight. In shock, Hope dropped his healing spells and Noel felt death swoop in. “Don’t waste—” and he bit back a groan as chaotic energy seeped through his body, knitting together torn sinew and sealing over burned flesh.

“What…” Hope’s eyes widened as the smoky tendrils ghosted over Noel’s wounds, leaving behind unmarred skin. The Guardian’s body convulsed, clutching at Hope’s clothes with white-knuckled hands. Hope just pulled him closer, pressing a cheek to sweat-dampened hair.

Moments passed and Noel’s laboured breathing slowed, his muscles relaxing.

“... Noel?”

Noel was reluctant to move; Hope’s heart was a fluttering bird in his ear, but it had been a long time since someone had embraced him with so much care.

“Noel?” Hope shifted, looking down at him with concern. Mogki peeked over the crest of Hope’s hair, pompom drooping.

“I’m fine,” Noel said. “Just let me rest for a sec.” And Hope was quiet, fingers absently running through the hairs at the nape of Noel’s neck.

Finally Noel sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. Mogki hopped over onto his seat atop the Guardian’s head, petting Noel’s hair comfortingly. “I will never get used to that…” He had no idea how Caius managed, but maybe after a millennia, he could be blase about it too.

“What… happened?” Hope peered at him, tentative.

Noel smiled at him through his fingers. “I’m fine. Sorry for worrying you.”

Hope frowned. He prodded the rents in Noel’s armor, touching skin which had been bleeding and exposing muscle and bone before. “Are you really ‘fine’?” He pulled Noel’s hands from his face, eyes searching.

“Yeah.” Another smile, brighter than he meant it.

“You nearly died,” Hope persisted. “Does this… have something to do with being the ‘Guardian of Chaos?’”

Noel sighed, staring off into the distance. “You once asked me how someone like me was on the side of Chaos. Do you remember?”

“Yeah… but what does—”

“I wasn’t summoned by Chaos. I was brought to Chaos because I have an advantage that none of the other warriors—on either side—have.” Grasping Hope’s hand, he pressed the fingertips against his chest and the Heart of Chaos glowed faintly in response. “I can’t die.”

Hope’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I’m immortal.” Noel smiled faintly. “So you don’t have to worry about me. This body can feel pain and I can experience dying, but I can’t actually be killed.”

Hope was silent; Noel could almost imagine the gears turning inside Hope’s skull as he processed this information. Shaking his head in amusement, Noel stood up, helping Hope do the same. “We should get going. Your companions are probably worried about you. And the Emperor might still be lurking around. Dying once a day is my limit.”

“Noel.” Hope grabbed his arm. “If you can’t die… that means Cosmos can’t win.”

( _So that’s what the Emperor wanted Hope to know…_ ) But there was no use denying it.

“Exactly.” A droll expression made Noel look older than he was. “You got it right on the nose. That’s why I was brought here. If you can’t defeat all the warriors on a side, then you have to destroy the deity. And Chaos is far too strong. So there it is. Your unwinnable war.”

Hope jerked away, glaring at Noel accusingly. “And you’re just letting that happen?”

“What do you expect me to do? Wipe out the warriors on Chaos’ side? I’ll still be here and I’ll still be one of Chaos. Fight Chaos? I’m immortal, not omnipotent.”

“Then switch sides!”

“It doesn’t work that—”

“Then make it work that way!” Hope shouted, vehement. Mogki squeaked in surprise at the sudden outburst. “You’re not like them! So why don’t you fight against it? Why are you just accepting your fate like that?”

Noel scowled. “I don’t need you lecturing me on changing destiny. It’s not all that simple as good and evil. Everyone has a reason they’re fighting.”

“And you?” Hope folded his arms over his chest, brows low over gleaming eyes. “What’s your reason?”

“I have people I want to save.”

“Even if means killing me?” Hope shot back. “Or Kain? Or the Onion Knight? Or Bartz and Squall? Aren’t we friends?”

“Hope, look—”

“I’m leaving.” Hope turned away.

Noel sighed in exasperation but it wasn’t worth arguing over. “Don’t die, Hope.”

 

 

 

 

  
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Chaos’ curiosity extended to everything, but he most favored philosophy and the nature of humans.

Noel wasn’t educated—he could barely read—and introspective thoughts weren’t his forte. He was a man of action more than thoughts, preferring proof to theory.

But the long conferences he held with Chaos forced him to contemplation, as the god struggled to understand his own existence.

Chaos had been created, Noel learned, a weapon to be used mindlessly. But Chaos had gained self-awareness and reason; Noel believed that the chaos within the god had granted him the same volition and passion it granted every human child at birth. So while Chaos was treated as thing, he struggled with an identity as a person of intelligence.

Noel pitied him and his loneliness; it was different from his own, but it was loneliness nonetheless. All the other warriors scorned the god, or feared him, or ignored him, or deferred to him, but only Noel treated him as he would a comrade.

“I desire a tale,” Chaos would say, and Noel would smile and tell him a story. He had many of them, handed down from his grandmother. And afterwards Chaos would contemplate the nature of these simple stories, in ways Noel never considered.

“I have only desire,” Chaos mused one day after Noel finished his account of how he had crossed into the Unseen Realm. “I know not of hope.”

A million words clammed up at the back of Noel’s throat. How could he explain such a thing? He pushed hair from his face, wishing he had a gift for oration, like the Hope of the future. “Maybe one day,” he slowly began, “I can show it to you.” Yes, he was better suited to action. The proof was better than the theory.

Chaos considered this. “I feel, Guardian, were I even to recognize it, that it is something not meant for one such as I.”

“Everyone has the right to hope,” Noel disagreed. “Hope has always been the legacy of chaos. It’s part of us.”

The god rested his cheek on a giant palm, grimly amused. “I desire to see this. Yes, show it to me one day. Perhaps if I were to hold it, I too can have hope.”

And Noel decided then that while he would not fight in this war, he could not abandon Chaos to its cruel conclusion.

 

 

 

 

  
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When they met again, it was once more by accident. Noel had been stalking a behemoth’s trail across a plain before the sky suddenly opened up and dropped buckets of water onto sun-bleached grass.

He darted across the open expanse with Mogki tucked under his chin, and soon he spotted the shadow of a wide-branched foliage-laden tree at the crest of a small hill. But as he approached, there were already others under it—and he wasn’t terribly surprised to see Hope, huddled beside Bartz and Squall. They were always pulled together, after all.

Hope wasn’t all that surprised either, but he didn’t meet Noel’s eyes. Bartz greeted him enthusiastically, Squall less so. Noel knew that the scarred man distrusted him and didn’t flinch when a gunblade flashed into life loosely in Squall’s fist in quiet warning.

Pushing dripping hair from his eyes, Noel nodded at the trio—they looked like they had escaped the torrent before it hit—and circled around to the opposite side of the large tree. The broad spread of branches kept most of the rain out, the grass at its roots dry. With a silent sigh, Noel flopped back against the wide trunk, legs drawn up. He was drenched, but the weather was warm and slightly breezy and not unpleasant. Crawling out onto Noel’s knee, Mogki shook off water, fur puffing out.

“Hey, Noel, come si—” Bartz’s request was muffled by Squall’s hand slapped over his mouth. Squall whispered something to the mime and then there was only the sound of rain.

Noel stared out at the curtain of water, hypersensitive to the fact that three other people—people he liked, in varying degrees—shared the tree with him, yet they treated him like a stranger. It was a kind of isolation that was worse than true loneliness—people within reach but wanted nothing to do with him. He hoped the rain would lessen soon. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it.

And then, as if the sky was listening, the downpour softened to a spitting drizzle just as suddenly as it started. Bartz jumped up with a shout—sitting still that long must’ve taken some massive willpower—and leapt into the nearest mud puddle. “Let’s go!”

Squall’s stance as he stood spoke enormous volumes of what he felt at that moment.

Noel rested a chin on a palm, watching over his shoulder as Hope tugged on Squall’s jacket and murmured something. The scarred young man raised a brow, glancing at Noel and frowning when he saw they were being watched back. “You sure?”

Hope nodded.

Hesitating only for a moment, Squall just shrugged and, pulling his jacket over his shaggy head, strode after the laughing Bartz. The mime waved at Hope, mouthing something with exaggerated slowness. Hope watched them go, the line of his back rigid.

( _I wonder if he wants to scold me again._ ) The corners of Noel’s mouth curled wryly at the thought, but he assumed a neutral expression when Hope approached.

[Ho-po?] Mogki nearly fell off Noel’s knee as it craned back to stare up at the boy. [Is Ho-po mad at us?]

With a deep breath, Hope suddenly sat down beside Noel, their shoulders bumping. “It’s still raining a little and I don’t want to get wet.” He reached over and pulled Mogki into his lap, tugging off the kerchief about his neck to dry the moogling’s damp fur.

“Of course.” Noel watched him briskly rub down Mogki.

Hope slowed and stilled. “Noel, I—” he cut himself off, gritting his teeth in frustration. Mogki chirped questioningly.

“This was a lot easier when I was talking it over with Bartz,” Hope muttered, staring helplessly at the moogling.

Noel raised a brow. “You told Bartz?”

“Not—not about … what you are…” Fingers absently smoothed Mogki’s fur. “Just that we had a fight.”

“And that it bothered you.”

“The fight didn’t bother me,” Hope snapped, glaring at Noel with sudden heat. “Because I’m right. What bothered me was that you...” He sighed. His face was worn, and Noel realized that this was an expression Hope would carry for the rest of his life. The adult Noel had met was a person with a nurturing heart, who believed in an all-or-nothing form of salvation. Hope had only two arms but he wanted to nestle the entire world within them.

Was this the beginning of that same ambition? To let no one be left behind? Or was it always there, buried under fear and feelings of inadequacy?

“You’re not like them, Noel. Those other warriors of Chaos.”

“So?”

“So stay with us.” Hope rested a hand on his arm, turning toward him in eagerness. “We can go to Cosmos, find a way—”

“Hope, this is the way I’ve chosen.”

A frustrated sound escaped Hope’s throat. “I just don’t understand _why_. You’re not a megalomaniac or conniving or a bad person or anything that says you should be on Chaos’ side.”

“I’m flattered you think I’m a decent human being,” Noel couldn’t help but tease.

“I’m serious,” Hope said, glaring.

“I know. You usually are.”

Defeated, small hands half-heartedly swiped the kerchief over Mogki’s head a few more times before falling uselessly into his lap.

“Hope, how much do you remember about our homeworld?”

“Not much,” Hope mumbled. “Just that there’s my world, Cocoon, and the land below, Pulse, and that Pulse sent up a fal’Cie that cursed some of us to destroy Cocoon. And that all of Cocoon is hunting us Pulse l’Cie…”

“I’m from Gran Pulse, you know.”

Hope’s head shot up in shock, green eyes wide. “You’re…?”

“Although,” Noel’s face was lined with sadness, “it doesn’t really matter that far in the future. But the reason I’m bringing this up—do you know the Goddess Etro?”

Hope shook his head.

Noel smiled faintly at him. “She’s a goddess of death. My tribe worshipped her, but no other clan did. They feared her. She was the cause of their sorrow, she brought about their troubles. Even legends painted her in a dark light.

“Hope, there’s two sides to everything, even within the same person. I made the choice not to actively aid Chaos. But I also made the choice to stay beside him.”

“That’s what I don’t get. He’s evil!”

“Have you met him? How do you know he’s evil? What does evil even mean?”

“Well, I—”

“Because he stands opposite a goddess clothed in white? Did you ever think about the Goddess, who ruthlessly sends her warriors to be defeated and killed without any plan? That she doesn’t hesitate to send her chosen out, defenseless, knowing that this is a war she’s never meant to win? Wouldn’t that be considered ‘evil’ too? By what measure can you judge evil?”

Hope was silent, jaw clenched.

Noel sighed. “You don’t have to understand my reasons.”

“So you’re just… going to sacrifice everyone else?”

“I’m not like you, Hope. I grew up with so much death that I found it easier to just hold onto what’s in front of me and focus on the now. No one deserves to die—good or bad—but not everyone can be saved. If you hold onto the world, you’ll lose what’s in front of you.”

“But what’s in front of you is a part of the world too. If you look past them, you can see that.”

“I only have two eyes and two arms, Hope.”

“Four of each, if you remember that there’s someone right beside you.”

Noel blinked. Someone beside him? He had spent so many cycles of this world alone that he had forgotten what it was like to stand beside another person. Hope’s clear pale eyes were fierce and a memory flashed across the Guardian’s mind: another set of pale eyes, with a same determination, and though he hadn’t known her for long, he had entrusted his life to her.

Serah… how long ago was that? He missed her terribly, a sudden longing for her voice filling him. He had forgotten it. Time hadn’t moved forward for her as he remained trapped in this place lost from Time; if—( _when, definitely when_ )—they met again, their separation may have just been a few hours for her, even if it was years for him. How much would he have changed by then? ( _How much have I changed even now?_ )

And now there was Hope, a Hope of the past, different but akin to the one Noel met in the future. Standing together with Hope…

If he was honest with himself, this was something Noel wanted since Hope had first appeared in this place. Noel, who hated loneliness, sought the company of the various warriors he encountered, but there was no one he felt he could stand in solidarity with, not until—

Noel shook his head at his own thoughts. “So, you think with our four eyes and four arms, we can save everyone?”

“Well, Mogki makes it six of each.” The moogling kupo’d in agreement. “Bartz and Squall make ten, and Onion will bring it to twelve. Kain’s fourteen and—”

Noel held up his hands in defeat. “I get it, I get it, you smartass.” He chuckled, cupping the back of Hope’s neck and leaning over to press their foreheads together, closing his eyes with a faint smile. Hope inhaled sharply. “You sure like winning your arguments.”

“I’m serious,” Hope whispered.

“I know.” And that was why Noel could believe in Hope’s idealism, even if just for a little while.

“Kupo?” Mogki poked up his head between them and Hope jerked away, face a brilliant scarlet. He coughed, grabbing Mogki and fussing over the moogling’s matted fur.

Noel hummed, resting more comfortably against the tree trunk and watching the misty veil of rain roll over the grassland. He liked rain—it didn’t exist in his time. He had first witnessed it at Bresha Ruins with Serah in that other dream, and even with everything going on then, he would always remember that first feel of water hitting his skin and soaking his clothes.

Water dripped from leaves; Noel lifted his face and one splattered onto his cheek, lukewarm. He wondered if Squall was still chasing Bartz through the drizzle and he smiled at the thought. A few minutes later, Hope settled closer against him, warmth from his small body bleeding through Noel’s damp armor. Mogki dozed peacefully in the boy’s lap, nose twitching.

“Can I ask you something?” Hope said quietly. “About your immortality…”

“Go ahead.”

“How did you—I mean, were you born with it? Or was it something that… happened?”

Noel rested an arm on an upraised knee, toying with a string of beads in his hair. “I killed a man and inherited his curse. I was born to do exactly that and that’s exactly what ended up happening.”

“But… you must’ve had an important reason.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn’t kill someone unless there was an important reason. I know that much about you.”

Noel was silent.

“Noel?”

“It was something I had to do.”

Hope absently ran his fingers over Mogki’s silky ears, thoughtful. “Something you had to do…” He shifted comfortably against Noel, fine hairs tickling the Guardian’s cheek. “Noel, I’ll find a way to stop this war and save everyone, even the ones you want to save. I promise.”

The conviction in his voice suddenly brought to Noel’s mind the memory of a grown Hope, face turned to the sky and the Cocoon he would protect. It seemed so long ago—it probably was long ago—but the conviction rang the same.

Noel nodded once in acknowledgement. The rain thickened, slipped through the leaves. He wrapped an arm around Hope, cradling the boy’s head against him to shield him from the falling water.

 

 

 

 

  
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“What are you doing here?”

Noel opened an eye and raised a brow at Cloud. He had been dozing in a cushioned seat upon the Phantom Train, letting it take him wherever it felt like. “Am I not allowed to be here?”

“I meant…” and the blond frowned. “I thought you’d be after the Emperor.”

Making a face, Noel slouched lower into his seat. “I’ve had enough of that guy for a million years. Why would I want to willingly look for him?”

“Is this why Kuja said I should find you…?” Cloud murmured to himself, lowering his chin in thought.

Noel burrowed down deeper into his seat, closing his eyes. He knew Cloud would eventually get to the point, but he wanted to get back to his nap. “So what does Kuja have to do with why I should be looking for the Emperor?”

“The Emperor is out hunting.”

Noel shot up. “What?”

“I think… you better find that kid of yours.”

But Noel was already sprinting for the door.

 

 

 

 

  
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He arrived too late.

The Onion Knight and Hope lay face down upon the ground, bearing the wounds of a harsh battle. The Emperor stood over Hope, his staff raised high, its sharp tip pointed down between the boy’s shoulder blades.

Noel moved without thinking, chaos surging into his limbs. He hurled his lance with deadly force at the Emperor, speeding after it. The Emperor sensed the projectile and knocked it away, only to leave himself wide open for Noel to drive a crackling bolt of chaotic energy into his midsection.

With a sharp cry, the Emperor teleported away, hovering in the air and clutching his stomach with an arm. Even in pain, he managed to school his face into a shaky version of his marble mask. “A bit tardy, Noel,” he chided. “And after all the trouble of making sure you’d find out what I was planning.”

Mogki was inspecting the two falling warriors of Cosmos as Noel stood before them, trying to control his Heart under the waves of anger washing over him.

[Noel, they’re not dead!]

“Just defeated then.” Noel took a shuddering breath, pressing a hand to his chest to still the chaos within. Dying didn’t necessarily mean failing purification, but it lowered the chance of success; the more energy expended to recover, the lower the chance of survival. Noel wasn’t sure how well Hope would fare and he didn’t want to take the risk in finding out.

“Indeed, you did arrive just in time to ruin my fun.” Finally mastering himself, the Emperor straightened, cool once more. “So do not fret, Noel. He’ll return to you in the next cycle.”

Next cycle, next cycle. And how many next cycles would there be? Would the Emperor continue to haunt his steps—Hope’s steps—every time?

( _Could I even protect him every time?_ )

His hand clenched against his chest; his Heart flickered once in response. His eyes met with the Emperor’s and they locked, neither willing to give.

Tendrils of chaos formed a spiraling stair, twisting around the floating Emperor. Noel slowly ascended the steps as the Emperor watched, apathetic.

“Don’t feel like fighting? Truly disappointing. I had hoped to see those powers you are so reluctant to utilize.”

Noel followed the stair to the emperor, stopping until he was level with the despot. “Fighting you is meaningless and killing you would be a mercy.”

The emperor’s languid eyes trailed after Noel as the Guardian circled around him.

“People like you only know how to take. You’ll take and take and take and clutch it close. And after you have everything your heart has ever desired—power, wealth, dominion—you’ll begin to take from yourself, carving out pieces until you’re hollow inside, because your ambition will never allow you to be satisfied. And then you’ll die: alone, empty, meaningless, and, most importantly, forgotten. Everything you’ve gathered will avail you not and you’ll be like everyone else when confronted by their own mortality: small, weak, impotent.

“So killing you now is a mercy. Keep your life until that bitter end.”

The Emperor barked a short laugh. “A pretty speech from the weak. I’ve heard it before. Allow me to whisper you a little secret.” He inclined his head magnanimously, lips touched by a sardonic line. “I enjoy the way I am.”

Noel mirrored the Emperor’s smile. “When you’re at Etro’s door, Emperor, breathing your last, I’ll be there to remind you of your words.”

A muscle in the Emperor’s cheek jumped. “Boring until the end, Noel. That boy spoke truly: you aren’t like us.” He tossed his head in dismissal. “I’m finished with you.” With that, he soared up out of the ring of chaos, a black gate enveloping him and spiriting him away.

Noel’s face was blank as the inky stair beneath him dissipated; he dropped gracefully to the earth.

The prone forms of Hope and the Onion Knight were already shedding their light as he approached; Mogki sniffled as it nudged Hope’s body to no avail. Noel watched the pyreflies flit into the deepening sky. A pale green wisp brushed his cheek, like a sweet breath murmuring promises. He tried to catch it, but it slipped through his fingers, fading away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fiddled with Dissidia's "rules" some more.
> 
> And my apologies to the Emperor.
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading. ♥


	4. act i. cycle xi.i.

**act i. cycle xi.i.**

“Did you eat anything?” Noel leaned over where Cloud was sitting atop the rampart of the ancient fortress, tilting his head. “I found a melon. Want some?”

Cloud shook his head, but when Noel settled next to him and set a tray of carved fruit in between, he gingerly reached for a slice.

Noel smiled, feeding bits of melon to Mogki. The fingers of dawn barely touched the horizon, as the rocky fields below their dangling feet stirred faintly in sleep. The three ate in silence as the pale light flushed color into their world.

“How’d you find me?” Cloud asked after the last piece of fruit was eaten, wiping sticky fingers on his pants.

“Kuja,” Noel replied. “He said you’ve been hiding out here.”

Cloud frowned at the word ‘hiding.’

“It seems like a nice place,” Noel continued, swinging his legs, “if you need to think.”

The blond nodded.

“Something you want to talk about?”

“No,” Cloud said. “Yes.”

Noel laughed. “What is it?”

Cloud shook his head. “That boy you’re stalking… the warrior of Cosmos.”

“I’m not exactly stalking him, but what about him?”

“Have you met him again yet?”

“Not yet,” Noel said. “It’s still a little early.”

“How do you know him?”

Noel tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Rosy light stained Cloud’s delicate features as he turned to watch the sun slowly crest the faraway hills. “From your homeworld. Is he a friend there?”

“It’s a little hard to explain.” Noel scratched the back of his head. “I don’t actually know _him_ —more like, we meet in his future.” He gestured vaguely.

“Then… he wouldn’t know you, even if he remembered everything.”

“Exactly.” Noel raised a brow at the blond. “So what’s eating you? I know this isn’t about me and Hope.”

“Just thinking. If I ever meet my other and we were once friends, how I’d handle it.”

“Why would you need a special way of handling it?”

“They won’t remember me. They’ll want to fight me… And even if they don’t want to fight me, I’ll have to fight them…”

“You don’t have to do any of that.” Noel lightly slapped Cloud on the back. “It’s not like you participate in the war anyway.”

“Hm…”

“I wouldn’t worry too much on it,” said Noel, smiling encouragingly. “It’s nothing you can control. Anyway, if it ever happens, I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do.”

Even though Noel didn’t quite know what to do himself.

 

 

 

  
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Noel didn’t find the manikins particularly threatening. They were more of a nuisance, especially since they were inferior copies of actual warriors Noel may have faced in previous cycles. He paid them no mind unless they got in his way.

But lately, it seemed like there were more roaming over the land, often in packs. Their danger went up exponentially in larger groups. They felt no pain and were utterly mindless; because of that, they had to be completely annihilated to be stopped. Several manikins encountered together could cross over from irritation to severe hindrance for even the battle-hardened.

Still, Noel totally had this under control. He had already downed two of the dolls and just because he had been busy with a third didn’t mean that he hadn’t known the fourth was there, giant sword raised.

Either way, the thunder and fire dualcast that had taken out the final two manikins was a bit excessive, in his honest opinion.

Coughing and waving smoke from his face, Noel scowled at the heavy bramble flanking his left. “Okay, you busybody, come on out. You know, it’s pretty rude to butt in on someone else’s fight.”

“Oh, really?” A slim, pale-haired boy carefully pried himself out of the thicket, shaking free a persistent vine from his shoe. “I guess next time I’ll just let you get cut in two.”

Noel’s eyes widened in delight, and the boy smiled a bit pertly at the Guardian’s astonished expression.

[Ho-po!] Mogki flung himself at Hope, smooshing its cheek against the mage’s. [Ho-po remember Mogki?]

“Mogki!” Hope laughed, cradling the moogling and tickling its belly. “Of course I do.”

“So… you remember me too?” Noel had a hard time keeping the excitement out of his voice.

Hope looked him over, tapping his cheek with a finger. “Hmmm… yeah, I think so.” Lips curled into a smile and Noel could swear he saw the face of a devil. “You’re my stalker.”

With an exasperated sigh, Noel hung his head. “I was hoping more for a name…”

Hope laughed, hugging Mogki close. His eyes sparkled. Noel had never seen him look so happy. “I remember you, Noel.”

The Guardian flushed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. It was hard to deny the pleasure it gave him that Hope had remembered him so quickly.

“Are you doing okay?” Hope asked as he released Mogki and the moogling flopped down atop his usual perch.

“Yeah, same as ever.” Noel steadied the moogling on his head, flashing a grin at Hope.

Hope’s smile faded. “I was a little worried. I thought you’d come find me sooner.”

“What, you like me being a stalker?” Noel asked in mock-surprise.

Hope punched him in the arm. “It’s because you’re a stalker that I expected you to be there the moment I remembered you.”

“I have my off days. So how much do you remember?”

“I remember you,” Hope said, “and Mogki, and a few of the warriors. I remember I’m a l’Cie, and my mother, and a few other things about our homeworld. I can’t remember why I forgot though.”

Noel nodded. Few remembered their defeat or death. It was how the secret of the cycles was maintained.

“And I can’t remember… “ Hope pinched the bridge of his nose, face scrunching. “Something important.”

“It’ll come to you.” Noel mussed the boy’s hair, pleased that Hope retained this much. “Don’t force yourself.”

“I guess… I had hoped if I saw you, I’d remember.” Shaking his head, Hope waved a hand in dismissal. “But like you said, it’ll come.” He smiled again. Noel thought that he wouldn’t mind getting used to this unreserved Hope and those precious smiles. “Either way, I’m glad to see you.”

If Noel’s heart fluttered a bit at that, he certainly couldn’t be blamed for it.

“Mind if we travel together?”

Noel’s back straightened at the question, pleased. But then he remembered just where he was going. “I’m heading somewhere a bit dangerous…”

“You think I can’t take care of myself? That I’m more helpless than Mogki?” Noel wasn’t sure if Hope was serious or not.

“Kupo!” Mogki shook a paw at Hope, insulted. [Mogki going to get strong too, kupo!]

“No, just—” Noel made a face. “I actually don’t know what I’ll find there.”

“So it’s better I come along,” Hope replied, reaching up to placate the irate moogling.

“It’s useless arguing with you.” Noel spread his hands in defeat, shaking his head with a rueful smile. “I’m headed deep north. There’s something I want to investigate.”

 

 

 

  
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“May I speak with you, Guardian?”

Noel slid the whetstone along his gladius one more time before glancing up. Golbez loomed over him, the breeze ghosting over the rooftop dancing through his cape. The Guardian was a bit surprised to see Golbez; both had been too busy with their own ends to see each other often. It seemed like the thaumaturge had aged despite the impossibility of such a thing in this world, an invisible burden heavy on his back.

“What is it?” Noel motioned for Golbez to sit by him.  
  
Golbez did not move. “Have you noticed any peculiarities in the manikins of late?”

“Hmmm,” Noel rubbed his chin. “I’ve been running into them more often. Less monsters too.”

“I see.” Golbez gazed far away. Sanctuary was a beacon on the horizon, easily seen from atop the ruins of the Chaos Shrine. “I fear that the light of Cosmos will soon be extinguished. There is a stillness to the land, like the calm before a storm.”

“What do you mean?”

“Guardian, will you grant me a favor? I am too closely watched, but you may move freely…”

 

 

 

  
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They moved swiftly through the lands, steadily heading toward the northern continent. They spoke little during their trek; Noel was too focused on tracking what Golbez had requested and Hope seemed to pick up on that. But Noel found comfort in Hope’s company and during times of rest, they’d sit together and just talk of little things or memories of their lives back home.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you remembered me so well,” Noel commented during one of those times.

Hope shrugged, tossing pebbles into the air as he practiced the game Noel taught him. “I remember thinking, ‘I can’t forget, I can’t forget.’” He frowned as he failed to catch all of the falling pebbles on the back of his hand and tried again. “Though I don’t remember why I thought I would forget.”

Noel watched him play, silent.

 

 

 

 

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“That manikin looked like the Onion Knight,” Hope said, wiping at his forehead with an arm after they had defeated a number of the crystalline dolls. “That’s the first time I’ve seen that.”

“About as impressive as the real one too,” Noel replied with a broad smirk.

Hope rolled his eyes at the sarcastic remark. “Are there usually so many manikins this far north?”

“No,” and Noel knew they were near.

 

 

 

  
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The two crouched low, peering over the ridgeline.

“What is that?” Hope whispered in awe, large eyes mirroring the blue hues washing over the field before them. A gaping wound bled a violet aurora in the empty sky above the clearing.

Noel waved for him to be quiet, watching several silhouettes spill from the rift. The light reflected off crystal bodies. Suddenly the rift pinched closed, sucking away the otherworldly radiance until only night and starlight remained. The manikins stood motionlessly, gleaming statues waiting for a call.

( _Golbez was right… the manikins originate from here._ ) Noel pulled Hope down. The boy glanced at him but Noel shook his head and motioned that they needed to leave.

They crawled back the way they came, carefully moving among the rocks until they reached the foot of the mountain. Noel glanced back up; the eerie halo that had crested the mountain peak was gone. It looked like any other mountain in the range.

“Noel, those were manikins,” Hope said.

Noel snagged his hand, pulling the boy along. “We need to keep moving.”

“Is this where they’re coming from?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d you know? What’s summoning them here?” Curiosity and concern spilled out of Hope’s voice with every word. “What’s going—?”

“I don’t actually know,” Noel cut in, more to stop the flood of questions than out of irritation. “You saw the same thing I did.”

Hope’s lips pressed shut, lost in thought as he blindly followed the Guardian.

 

 

 

  
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“If we stop Exdeath, could we stop the rift?”

Golbez shook his head. “The rift has already been made. There is no halting its progress and in time it will widen as the space-time around it frays. We do not know how many manikins lay upon the other side, but it does not forebode well.”

Noel paced back and forth in front of Golbez, arms folded and head bowed in thought. “How much time is left?”

“That is why I need you to observe it. I cannot approach it. I feel the others have begun to suspect me.”

“And because they already think of me as Cosmos in Chaos clothing, I’m the best one to send instead.”

“They cannot harm you.”

“Right.”

“Guardian, if the manikins spiral out of control, we cannot say what the outcome will be. They are not of this world nor were they summoned by its gods. A death by manikin will be a death not sanctioned for purification.”

Noel stopped. “You know that for sure?”

“It is only a theory, but I believe it sound—as do others, for the manikins are being manipulated to eliminate Cosmos.”

 

 

 

  
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The trickle of water falling over the edge of the rocks was a blessed relief after his battle with a team of manikins. Noel cupped his hands under the flow and drank. He had taken to hunting manikins after the discovery of the rift, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up. There were just so many and he was only one person. He splashed water onto his face. Maybe if he talked with some of the others… This was something which affected everyone—couldn’t they work together to stop it?

“Kupo?” Mogki chirped, pompom at attention. With an excited chitter, it spun in a circle, weaving away. [Ho-po!] The moogling bobbed over to the approaching boy, nose wiggling in excitement. Hope strode past the moogling, not even sparing it a glance. [Ho-po?]

Noel glanced up, surprised. After the discovery of the rift, Hope had grown broodingly silent during the trip back to the southern continents. And then, one night, he had slipped away without telling Noel. The Guardian had not seen him since.

"Hey there, Hope," Noel smiled widely, but when he received a solemn, stone-faced stare in return, the good cheer faded. "Something wrong?"

Hope breathed deeply and looked him square in the eye. "As a representative of Cosmos, I'm challenging you."

Blinking, Noel tilted his head. He wasn’t sure how to take that. "Er..." Did Hope understand the significance of asking that? That Noel only fought when challenged? Mogki chirped, echoing his confusion.

The boy continued, as if from a rehearsed speech. "I know you don't take me seriously and that you think I'm weak. But I'm going to give it my all for this fight." His face was determined, but his fists were white-knuckled, shoulders stiff.

"Any ... special reason you suddenly want to do this?" Noel always knew at back of his mind that they’d fight someday, but he never dreamed it'd be after they come so far together. He always thought it’d be at the beginning of a cycle, when Hope wouldn’t remember him, like their first encounter. Definitely not now, when Hope had been so happy to see him at the start...

But the Hope before him now was silent, thin-lipped and expectant.

Noel exhaled slowly; perhaps Hope didn’t actually recall everything about him. "You do... remember about me—what I am? You know you can't win, right?"

"I know I can't lose,” Hope replied, his voice calm. “So one of us is wrong." Wisps of freezing air solidified into javelins circling around him. Their points gleamed wickedly.

Noel rubbed the back of his head. “Hope, this is crazy. Why do you suddenly want to figh—” A javelin shot past his ear, shredding strands of his hair. Mogki squeaked, diving away in fear.

Hope lowered his arm, another lance reforming to replace the one lost. “Right now we’re standing on opposite sides. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“No.” Noel summoned his lance and flipped up his polearm, leveling the point at the other. “You said we were standing beside each other, but I guess you’ve forgotten that.”

Three bolts of ice in rapid succession fired off at the Guardian, but he easily brushed them aside.

“I haven’t forgotten. I remember everything about you—and I remember that you’re a warrior of Chaos and my other. So face me, as my other, to the end. Or am I really that weak to you? That I have to be pitied by the enemy?”

“Hope…” Noel grit his teeth. If he chose not to fight Hope, then it was just proving Hope’s erroneous belief. But if he fought him…

He swung his lance to the side, poising to attack. “I’ve never considered you weak.” He’d just have to be careful.

“Then don’t hold back.”

“Your wish is my command,” Noel retorted, rushing the mage. His lance speared through an ice javelin before slamming against a magic barrier inches from Hope’s face.

Hope reversed the barrier energy with explosive force, wind sending Noel flying back. The Guardian dropped the butt of his lance into the ground, dragging it through dirt to slow his flight, before swinging around it to charge at Hope again. The lance split into gladius and twin-bladed sword as he closed in, shattering through the frozen missiles hurtling his way.

The opening attack had been a feint; the plan was to pressure Hope into exhaustion. Noel knew his own advantage lay in his agility, and he knew Hope—as a mage with a weak physical offense and defense—would work to keep him locked down at a distance. As long as Noel kept advancing aggressively, Hope wouldn’t have time to do much but defend himself or attack recklessly. Once the boy exhausted his mana, Noel figured he could tie him up or something and they could argue without the magic bombardment.

But he was careful. He never drove in too deeply and his attacks were calculated to never strike Hope. He just wanted the boy to react. He took hits he could’ve easily avoided to encourage Hope to attack him again and he ignored opportunities where he could’ve easily defeated or killed Hope for the win.

And as the fight wore on, Hope caught onto his ploy.

With a snarl, Hope jumped back, crouching low; balls of fire orbited around him in a defensive shield. He was angry—Noel had never seen him angry like this. It surprised the Guardian to see this kind of passion consuming Hope; the Hope from the future was so composed and even the younger’s previous bouts of temper were nothing like this emotion twisting his face. "I thought you said you don't consider me weak! Why are you holding back?"  
  
"Just because I don't think you're weak doesn't mean I want to hurt you." Noel couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice. This was like Caius all over again.

“Then take this seriously!” The hairs rose up on the back of Noel’s neck and he dodged to the side, avoiding a direct lightning strike. The heat of the bolt seared through his armor; he gritted his teeth against the burning pain in his leg and reversed his direction, propelling himself directly into Hope’s defenses.

Scorching flames licked at him but he didn’t hesitate, drawing back an arm to punch Hope right in the face. Nothing too hard—he was terrified of Hope being harmed beyond purification—but hard enough to maybe knock some sense into him. The fires vanished as Hope staggered back.

"Just stop!" Noel’s shoulders drooped, arms dangling low. "I could die a million times, but it's only once for you."

But the other just wiped at his mouth with back of his hand, lashing out with a wave of renewed fire. "What does it matter? Then I won't be purified! That's one less for Cosmos, one more for the Chaos you serve."

Noel leapt back to avoid being singed. So Hope had found out the nature of the cycles. Was this why he was suddenly attacking Noel? He growled. "If you don't make it through purification, then you're lost in the Void forever! You don't come back, you don't go home, you just wander in nothingness forever while Time moves on. Don't you get it? I can’t lose you like that!"

Hope stiffened, eyes widening in shock. Glancing away as if weighing this new information, the muscles in his jaw worked. Finally he looked at Noel under pale lashes, even more determined. "I won't lose,” he whispered in a low voice. "I made a promise. This is something I have to do."

What promise was worth this? Noel was silent for a moment. "You're really serious about this..." What happened to the Hope that was so unsure of his own path? The Hope standing before him—was it something like this that formed the Hope of the future?

There was no hesitation in Hope’s reply. "I said I was. Fight me, Noel." His face was hard but his large eyes pleaded.

Noel swore to himself, breaking apart his lance into its components. "If this is what you want..." He pointed the tip of the gladius at the boy. "Then I'm ending it quickly. Be sure to remember it next cycle so we don’t have to do this again."

"I don’t plan on losing." Peaks of rock thrust from earth at Noel’s feet, but the Guardian spun away, gladius slicing through the rock and sword swinging at it to send the chunks flying at the mage.

The earth smashed through Hope’s barrier, but Noel didn’t stop, no longer on the defensive. Dark tendrils trailed after him as he rushed at the boy, body enhanced by the power of chaos; he tore easily through Hope’s defenses, driving a shoulder deep into the boy’s gut. Even as the boy flew backwards, Noel was there behind him with blinding speed, smashing an elbow into his back.

Hope hit the ground with a choked sound and Noel’s heart lurched, but his face was grim as he stared down at the coughing boy. Wasn’t this what Hope wanted? Noel was just respecting that, right?

It was like this with Caius. Something he had to do.

( _But I don’t want to do it!_ )

Hope stumbled to feet, spitting blood to the side. His breath came in heaves—Noel could tell he was hitting his limit in every way—but his gaze was just as fierce as ever. Despite his exhaustion, the boy conjured more ice spears.

Noel’s face tightened. He had to finish it quickly; if Hope kept casting magic past his limit, he’d suffer from manaburn—the resulting drain on his body would assuredly ruin his survival of purification. This may be something he had to do, but he wouldn’t let it end like that.

With a gesture, Noel’s weapons disappeared, reforming beside him as his lance, crackling with chaotic energy. The darkness ate at the weapon until nothing remained but an energy bolt, so black it glowed white.

( _I’m sorry, Hope_.) The bolt of shadow-light leveled itself at Hope.

With final desperation, Hope flung the spears at Noel, propelled by a gust of magic wind, but they crashed headlong into the energy bolt, shattering into crystalline fragments refracting the not-light of the bolt of chaos as it sped through them toward Hope.

There was a flash of light as the chaotic energy engulfed the boy, before suddenly dispersing into fragments of darklight. Noel blinked, half-stepping back in surprise. A four-walled barrier of golden crystal rose in an encapsulating tower around Hope, refracting the image of a just-as-surprised boy within.

( _What the….?!_ ) Noel caught Hope’s gaze just before the barrier shattered into rays of light, a seal blazing into life on the ground all around them. The light solidified into several looming white towers, an enclosing wall about them crackling with magic.

“Hope!” Noel’s first concern was the boy, wondering if this was some attack by a third party. He started forward, the fight forgotten. “Are you all right?”

The boy pressed a hand against the central tower behind him, smiling brilliantly at Noel. The Guardian slowed and stopped, confused.

“Noel!” The tower rumbled; it was like a machine, the bulging center opening wide to reveal many glassy eyes within. “This is my promise!” The eyes flickered white.

A new seal opened under Noel’s feet, fiery script—Etro's script, he realized belatedly—tracing after him even as he leapt back. A low hum reached his ears and the ground within the seal boiled. He had only enough time to compact a shield of chaos around him before the world erupted into brilliant holy light.

It was raining earth, dust billowing everywhere when the light finally faded. Noel was on his knees, coughing. He squinted through the haze; it seemed the towers were gone, but Hope was no longer there. Did the explosion catch the boy as well? Panic rose in him.

A fist flew out of the smoke, smashing into his jaw. His head whiplashed and Noel briefly saw stars.

With a petulant cry, his hand flew to his face, glaring up the huffing boy who was glaring back down.

The two stared off for a few moments before Hope sighed in exhaustion, bending over to put one hand on a knee and shake the other in pain. He swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath. "You really are strong." A slight pause, followed by a wry look as he flexed his fingers. "And hard-headed."

Noel blinked at the apparent cease-fire, working his jaw carefully. "Aren't those my lines?" What was that thing? He had heard legends about the eidolons of Etro... Did Hope, a l’Cie according to history, manage to summon one here? "Wanna fill me on what you're thinking?"

"I..." Hope trailed off, brows furrowed, staring at the ground. He seemed to be trying to find the right words, so Noel just watched him patiently. "I had to fight you. I needed to prove something."

"If you're trying to prove how strong you are, can we just arm wrestle next time?"

A brief, tired smile crossed Hope’s face. “Yeah.” He held out a hand to help Noel to his feet. “And thanks.”

Noel gingerly took the help, eyeing Hope’s wounds. Most were minor. “You really had me worried. I thought you really… you know, considered us enemies. That you were challenging me for real.”

“We _are_ enemies and I _was_ challenging you seriously,” Hope said quietly. “I told you, I had made a promise. I couldn’t lose. Didn’t you have something similar? Something you had to do? People you have to save?”

Then Hope smiled faintly at him, grasping his hands and squeezing them. “But,” he added almost shyly, “I’m glad it ended like this, because it also means we’re friends.”

A weight settled on Noel’s head and he glanced up to see Mogki waggling a scolding paw at Hope. [Then why is Ho-po hurting Noel?] The moogling hid its face behind pawfuls of Noel’s hair.

"I’m sorry for scaring you, Mogki." Wincing, Hope reached up to rub Mogki behind an ear. "Noel was the only one who could help me. I didn’t want to hurt him, but it was something I had to do.”

Mogki peeked at Hope. [Mmm… Mogki guess it’s okay if it’s helping Ho-po.]

“Hey,” Noel poked at the moogling, “you’re not the one who got beat up here.”

[Noel probably deserved it, kupo.]

“Ouch, this love I’m feeling.”

Gloved palms suddenly cradled Noel's face and he blinked down at Hope, startled. The warmth of healing magic kissed his cheeks and he quickly snagged Hope’s wrists. "Hold on there—you don't have a lot of energy left. Take care of yourself. I'm fine." He offered the boy a reassuring grin. "Immortal, remember?"

Hope pulled himself free with an irritated sound, shooting Noel that familiar grumpy look. "And you can still feel pain, so be quiet. I can get Bartz to heal me." With a slight roll of his eyes, Noel let Hope do as he wanted.

"You look awful though," Noel said after he felt the healing magic recede.

"Isn't that your fault?"

"As if I don’t feel horrible enough. But I was just doing what you asked.” Noel paused. “You didn't have to punch me though."

"No,” Hope said casually, before he smiled angelically. “But I wanted to, because you didn’t have to punch me either."

"How the hell can you look so innocent when you say things like that..." Noel sulked.

Hope was quiet, before he suddenly pulled Noel’s head down and pressed their lips together clumsily. Noel’s eyes widened at that naked brush of skin, the ghosting taste of blood and ash and something unfamiliar but not unpleasant.

He just stared blankly as Hope drew back, hardly able to breathe. Mogki chirped, knocking on Noel’s skull.

Hope’s fingers curled against his face; his gaze dropped at Noel’s silence, flushing. "Noel, I just..." He trailed off in a huff, frustration screwing his jaw. "I—I believe in you, all right?" Hope suddenly lifted his eyes, full of steel. "Please don't forget that."

A voice was calling Hope's name from afar. Bartz.

Hope’s hands twitched, as if he had more to say, but he just exhaled noisily. A soft brush of gloved fingertips trailed down Noel’s cheeks as the boy turned away to leave.

"Hope!” Noel blurted out. “...I'll see you later?" and he didn’t mean to hook it as a question and maybe that really wasn’t what he wanted to say, but at the moment his brain and his tongue seemed to be operating on two different levels.

Pausing, Hope looked over his shoulder for a long moment. A ghost of a smile flickered over his lips and he nodded once before hurrying on.

Still bemused, Noel watched him disappear into a line of trees, pressing a hand to his mouth. After a moment, his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"Kuuuupo?" Mogki peered down at him. [What’s so funny, kupo?]

Noel swept the moogling off his head, dropping a loud smooch on the big nose with a chuckle. “I think I can forgive him for punching me.”

 

 

 

  
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Noel didn’t see Hope again for a long while, though not without trying. He wandered the lands freely, relying on their magnetism as others to meet the boy again.

He saw Bartz and Squall and Kain and the Onion Knight, sometimes with others but never with Hope.

Noel worried that maybe Hope fell again in battle, despite growing so much in strength, so he finally confronted Bartz.

The mime just shrugged. The last time he saw Hope was after Hope’s fight against Noel—the two returned to Sanctuary and that’s where Hope had remained. Then Bartz nudged Noel with a knowing wink and smirk, and the Guardian was so relieved by the news that he endured the mime’s teasing for a little while.

 

 

 

  
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“Kupo?”

Noel straightened, staring at the sky. The clouds glowed yellow and expansive wings eclipsed the sun. Night flickered briefly and then the dragon was gone, leaving renewal in its wake.

“Another cycle…” This would be the fourth since Hope had joined him in this place.

 

 

 

  
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Noel curiously watched the black-armored man clap Kain on the shoulder before leaping down and running ahead. That kind of familiar camaraderie was unusual for Kain, and Noel smirked when the dragoon lifted his head toward him.

Jumping down, he held up his hands as the dragoon stalked toward him. “I’m not here to fight.”

“Yes, I know who you are, Guardian.”

Noel grinned, relieved. New cycles were always chancy with Kain. Pursing his lips, he glanced around the dragoon, tilting his chin at the shadowy figure moving into the distance. “You know him too?”

Kain suddenly went still. “What do you want?” he asked abruptly.

Noel made a face, acknowledging Kain’s reluctance to discuss the black-armored man. “I’m looking for someone. Short, skinny kid, pale-haired, huge green eyes.” Noel’s fingers made circles around his own eyes to illustrate. “Have you seen him?”

Kain’s head bowed in thought, arms folding over his chest. “One of ours?”

“Yeah.” A knot of worry twisted itself in Noel’s stomach. “You haven’t seen him? I’ve been looking everywhere and I usually find him by now.”

The dragoon shook his head. “I don’t recall any such boy at the gathering.”

“He probably got lost,” Noel said, and though it was a light-hearted remark, the knot in his stomach rolled. So Kain didn’t remember Hope. No big deal. It was a cycle refresh and depending on the extent of purification, more memories may have been sacrificed. The lesser ones usually went first.

Kain was silent for a moment, watching the nervousness play over Noel’s face. “… I had heard that one of us had fallen.”

Noel’s stomach dropped.

“Perhaps the one you’re searching for?”

 

 

 

  
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He strode through the winged arches of Sanctuary and did not pause when the Goddess’ Guardian stepped out to block his path. The Warrior of Light drew his blade with a ring, extending it to halt Noel’s advance.

He stopped, turning his head to stare holes into the nameless Guardian’s face. The other did not flinch, staring calmly back. Noel had defeated this Guardian in four other cycles, not including their first charged meeting, and he had rapidly learned that words were wasted on the single-minded warrior. But he was not in the mood for a protracted fight against the powerful Guardian of the Goddess.

“Get out of my way,” Noel ordered in measured tones. “I must speak with the Goddess.”

“I will not allow you entry,” the Warrior replied.

Noel face darkened. “I’m not here to fight you or harm your Goddess. But if you don’t move, I will cut you down where you stand.”

The Warrior of Light did not flinch from the power behind Noel’s words and he gripped the hilt of his sword tight.

[ _Allow him entry, my Guardian._ ]

He hesitated for a moment, but then his sword lowered and Noel stalked by him without another glance.

Cosmos was waiting for him in the heart of the tower, seated upon her divan in the middle of a clear shallows. Her pale hands were folded in her lap and her face composed; the soft radiance of the enormous chamber formed a halo about her golden hair.

Water blessed his feet as he bore down upon her with cold intensity; she met his glare with ancient eyes. The Warrior of Light followed behind him, ready to protect his Goddess, but Noel didn’t break his stare with Cosmos.

“Where is he?” Noel demanded, fists balled tight at his sides. “He’s here, right?”

Finally the Goddess lowered her gaze. Mogki whimpered and Noel knew that his fear was true. “I am sorry.”

The apology was a punch to the gut; Noel’s breath exhaled in short bursts. “You’re sorry?” he spat out. His eyes burned. What had he been doing all this time? He wanted to protect his friend, but what had he been doing?

‘ _I believe in you, all right?_ ’

What was there to believe in? How many times will he have to lose someone?

“You called him here,” Noel accused, voice rising. Mogki kneaded his scalp to placate him, but he wanted to blame someone; he staggered forward, each step staining the water under his feet dark with chaotic energy. Her Guardian moved to protect her, but Cosmos stayed him with a shake of her head. Her pity enraged Noel more.

“You hide behind the bodies of those who believe in your false cause,” and he was gasping for air, tears blinding him.  His heart—Heart—thudded in his chest. “You throw them again and again at death and sacrifice their souls for life and all you have to say is that you’re sorry?”

‘ _Please don't forget that._ ’

“You,” his voice was strained, “called him here and you took him away from me and that’s it? You’re sorry?”

Cosmos’ ageless eyes wore a mantle of lament. “There is naught I can say that would relieve your pain. For that, I am sorry.”

Water exploded around them, bursting upwards into dark, spraying fountains as chaos indulged in the emotional turmoil Noel struggled to lock tight. Crystal droplets streamed down, shining white as they fell. Noel’s chest heaved and his head bowed at the lethargic release, water and tears trailing down his cheeks.

The sweet trills of trickling rain echoed through the silent Sanctuary.

“Guardian of Chaos,” Cosmos began and stopped. “No, Noel,” she began again, rich voice compassionate. “You and I have both grown complacent in our idleness. Inaction has led us to our doom.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Hope realized this and sought to save us through his sacrifice.”

Noel chuckled bitterly. “Sacrifice? That idiot…”

“Hope asked me to give this to you.” Cosmos held out her hand. Swirls of light condensed into a star above her palm, solidifying into crystal with a burst of sparks.

He lifted his head, staring tiredly at the faceted, many-pointed star, pale green like Hope’s eyes. “What is it?”

“His wish.” Cosmos reached out, gently lifting one of Noel’s hands and setting the crystal upon it. “As a chosen of Chaos, you cannot bear a crystal. Therefore he wished to give you his own. This is what he gave his life for.”

“... a crystal…?” Its light was warm and gentle, like the pyreflies shed by Hope’s body in the last cycle. ( _Was this… the promise he kept talking about? To stop the war?_ )

“No longer will I idly stand by, Noel. I have watched my warriors fall for cycles, at the order of the Great Will. I have let some become forever lost in the Void, trapped in eternal nightmare. I have sinned greatly, and this will be my atonement.” Her shoulders straightened, the sorrow on her face sharp. “I ask for your help. Hope asks for your help. Bear his crystal and, with your strength, fulfill the wishes contained within.”

Noel’s fingers snapped shut over the star; it disappeared into streams of mist. He whirled around, shouldering past the Warrior of Light, leaving the Goddess and her Guardian without a word.

 

 

 

  
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As he walked through the arches, he saw a woman approaching. When they passed each other, the woman spared him a single appraising glance and he met her pale gaze coolly. She wouldn’t recognize him but he recognized her, even clothed as she was.

( _Was this also your wish?_ )

He didn’t look back as Lightning disappeared under the arches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh noes drama!!1
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading!


	5. act i. cycle xii. i.

**act i. cycle xii.i.**

Noel held his grandmother’s hands in her last moments; they were no longer warm and lacked the strength he knew. But he still loved her, even if she could not grip his hands back, even if her skin was clammy and bloated to his touch. He held her hands and loved her and felt helpless.

Noel cradled Yeul’s small body after her final vision; she was always tiny but now she seemed especially fragile; jewel-green eyes which could see everything now blind to what was in front of her. But he still loved her, even if she couldn’t see him, even when she promised him that they’d meet again before she left him utterly alone. He cradled her body and loved her and felt helpless.

Noel pressed his forehead to Caius’ chest as he died; the Heart of the Goddess no longer beat within, but nor did anything else. Yet he still loved him, even in the man’s madness, even when Caius abandoned him, even when Caius tried to take his future. He pressed his forehead to his chest and loved him and felt helpless.

Noel didn’t want to look at Hope’s crystal. He could feel it inside him, a gentle beat against his heart. He didn’t want to look at it, because he loved him and felt helpless.

 

 

  
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Days passed.

Noel supposed he was grieving. He’d mourned many, many times before and this was just another in a line of what will be many bereavements to come. But the knowledge of that didn’t make him any less angry. Lacking the energy to survive purification because of the crystal, Hope was now lost somewhere in the Void, and back in their homeworld, time would correct itself to erase him from existence. What then?

So Noel supposed he was grieving, recalling every detail of their moments together, engraving them into his heart. When he returned home, Serah wouldn’t remember Hope. Lightning wouldn’t either. Not Snow, not anyone at the Academy, not even Fang and Vanille, whom Hope had been working so hard to rescue from Cocoon’s pillar.

The past and the future wouldn’t remember him, and that angered Noel.

There wasn’t any doubt that Noel would take up the cross; Hope forced him to choose, not between Chaos and Cosmos, but between his own path and Hope’s wish. Noel wouldn’t allow Hope’s sacrifice to be in vain, but he was angry that Hope had no confidence in his own strength and believed too much in his.

And he was angry because he knew his friendship with Hope drove the boy to make this choice, and in the end, all his anger was really directed at himself.

_‘Why are you just accepting your fate like that?’_

“So you were here.”

Cloud’s feet approached where he sat under the shadow of the inner rampart of the ancient fortress. The rays of the rising sun crested the barricade, slanting over him to illuminate the white of the SOLDIER’s boots.

Plopping down beside Noel, Cloud pulled up his legs, resting his arms on them. “Things aren’t going well outside. For them.”  
  
Mogki rustled atop Noel’s head. “Kupo?” It tugged on his hair, leaning over to peer at his face. [Did Noel hear that, kupo?]

“I heard,” Noel said a bit curtly. “Exdeath’s rift?”

Cloud nodded. “Chaos could win this war without us lifting a finger.”

The warmth of the morning crept over their legs.

“I’ve met my other.”

That got a reaction out of Noel. He turned his head. “This cycle?”

Cloud rested his chin on his arms. “She doesn’t remember me, but it’s probably better this way.”

The two sat in the silence of morning.

Finally Cloud stood, letting the dawn fall on his face. The tower of Sanctuary was a prism on the far horizon. “I don’t think I’ll be here much longer.” He glanced down at Noel and his luminous eyes were bright. “I have to save her, Noel. This war has to end.”

A ball of iron settled in Noel’s gut; his jaw clenched. “You can’t possibly be thinking of…”

“I spent all these cycles ignoring the war, because I didn’t have a reason to fight. Now I do. For a friend…”

Noel didn’t stop him. He just watched Cloud go, away from the shining dawn and into the red shadows.

 

 

  
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He roamed blindly. Manikins infested the land, assaulting any living creature. They bore the faces of many whom Noel knew, but he was grateful never Hope’s own.

Noel didn’t see many Warriors of Cosmos, including the few he had met through Hope. He spotted Lightning a few times and he wanted to reach out to her, but he also knew it would be fruitless—she didn’t know him and she had her own goals. To her, he would be nothing more than her other, allied with Chaos.

As for the rest... Perhaps they had already perished, either to minions of Chaos or to the eternal doom of the manikins.

His steps grew heavy as he wandered.

One morning, Noel finally crossed paths with Kain, at the edge of the fens in the west. The dragoon was alone, though Squall lay crumpled at his feet. But Noel had seen from his perch in the branches of a hoary tree: the dragoon had ambushed the scarred young man and felled him.

“Something you wanted, Guardian?” Kain did not turn away, unashamed of his actions.

“Just wondering what you’re thinking, taking out your own allies.”

“I am betraying them, is that not obvious?” Kain’s lips quirked bitterly.

Noel didn’t rise to the bait, hopping to the ground. “I don’t really think you’re capable of that.”

“Then you understand me better than most.” The dragoon studied Noel, and Noel shifted under those hidden eyes, feeling his soul laid bare. “We have known each other overlong, Guardian. Between us, there are no lies, so I will say this: Cosmos cannot win this cycle.”

Noel folded his arms over his chest. “You know about the cycles, then.”

Kain nodded. “Golbez has told me; I do not doubt him. It explains… much.”

“So what do you plan to do about it?”

“Perhaps that should be my question to you.”

Noel smiled wryly. “Looks like you found out more than just the cycles.”

“The Goddess has bestowed crystals upon all her chosen. If we can awaken them, we will receive the power to defeat the God of Discord directly.” Kain shook his head. “But that will not happen this cycle. The manikins are many and we are too fragmented. For too long, the warriors of Cosmos have worked at odds, without purpose.”

“You’re… intentionally losing this cycle,” Noel realized, anger rising.

Kain regarded him coolly. “Guardian, I have long found you vexing. For all your strength, you are afraid to use it, and for all the power you wield, you know naught what to do with it. Perhaps when you came to this world, you had lost hope, and upon finding it again, lost it once more. But now I understand you; hope is a double-edged blade: even as it saves, it takes away.”

“So you’re saying you’re giving hope to your friends, but have none for yourself,” Noel growled, fists clenched. He hated how angry he was these days and that just made him more angry. “You’re going to sacrifice yourself once you take out the others.”

“For some of us, this is as far as our strength will go.” Kain’s back was straight, unyielding. “I have no regrets.”

“People like you…” Noel cut himself off, turning away. Emotion choked him.

Kain bent and picked up Squall’s prone form easily and gently. “There is something different about you now, Guardian. I wonder what you will ultimately choose: to keep hope or deliver it. Some of us have already made the choice.”

( _Some of us, huh…_ ) Like Hope.

“Kain,” Noel said quietly. “Is there something that you wish for dearly? With all your heart?”

“Wishes are the pleas of the weak, Guardian.”

“But there’s nothing beyond your strength that you want?”

Kain was so silent that Noel wondered if the dragoon had left. He glanced over his shoulder; Kain was staring off into the distance, where the silhouette of Sanctuary rose into the heavens.

“The end of my strength will lead to my death.” The dragoon’s lips quirked at the corners. “And the dead want for nothing.”

“Death isn’t glorious, Kain,” and it came out more harshly than Noel intended.

“I do not ask forgiveness from you.” Kain reached out, clasping Noel’s shoulder. “But I will give you this, Guardian: I wish that we could have fought beside each other, as comrades.”

Noel closed his eyes and bowed his head. The wind stirred and Kain was gone.

 

 

  
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Chaos was sprawled in his throne, but it was not the same as other visits. Noel could sense the god’s discontent the moment those fire-laden eyes bore down on him, piercing him through as he climbed the many stairs.

“The wind reeks today of desperation,” Chaos rumbled, resting his chin in a monstrous claw. “You reek of it, as did the one who came before you.”

Noel swallowed the lump in his throat. So Cloud had confronted Chaos after all… To turn a blade against the god who had summoned him—Cloud was lost then.

He sat down hard on the steps, pressing his palms into his eyes. Mogki hovered around him in worry. He was tired.

“Why do they struggle so much?” Chaos’ deep voice was almost plaintive, a child’s question. “Before the impossible, why do they continue to fight? I have long considered this. Do you know, my Guardian?”

“They have hope—for a wish.”

“Hope… I know naught of it. But a wish?” Chaos tasted the word like a foreign, bitter thing. “Do you also have a wish?”

Noel nodded once, slowly.

“I see.” Chaos leaned back in his throne, tilting his head up to the meteor-streaked black sky. “Then tell me, my Guardian, the difference between desire and ‘a wish.’ I know one, but not the other.”

“I wouldn’t say they’re different.” Noel linked his fingers together, staring down at his hands.

_‘I only have two eyes and two arms, Hope.’_   
_‘Four of each, if you remember that there’s someone right beside you.’_

“Just maybe one’s more selfish than the other.”

Chaos rumbled deep in his throat as he pondered the meaning of wishes. “Ah. So my warrior had turned his weapon upon me out of selfishness. So my mother has chosen to love others out of selfishness. So the weak fight out of selfishness. I wonder if you will betray me—out of selfishness.”

Noel was silent.

“Yes, I understand now. So too, do I have a wish then, out of selfishness. Long have I given my warriors their freedom and I have paid for this love. My wish—for all who have wronged me, I wish for retribution.”

 

 

  
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The manikins glittered over the land like thousands of marching beetles, crawling over each other mindlessly as they swarmed toward Sanctuary.

Noel watched from atop the remains of the Chaos Shrine. The wind stirred his hair and he glanced to the side as Golbez walked up.

“Exdeath has been defeated, but his command has been delivered.” Golbez’s velvet baritone held no consternation despite the bad news. “They will slay Cosmos.”

“If they kill her, the war will end…”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps this is her gambit.” Golbez turned his face to the darkness gathering in the north. “Cosmos has given all her power and soul to the crystals and kept none. What remains now is but a shell of memories. Thus through the crystals she shall return, yet the next cycle will be the last—for good or ill. She cannot survive another loss.”

Noel folded his arms over his chest. “Does the Goddess really think she can win?”

“The die has been cast, Guardian, driven by our foolish wishes. We cannot think of winning—we may only fruitlessly hope.”

For the first time since receiving it, Noel summoned the shining crystal star, cupping it tentatively between his palms. Its compassionate light shimmered sweetly over the ruins; it seemed more vivid than before. “So what is your foolish wish?”

Golbez stirred, pulling his cape close. “To save him.” He said no more.

The crystal star flickered at Golbez’s words, its luster brightening in acknowledgement. Noel ran his thumbs over the crystal, the hard planes warm to the touch.

_‘Like… a living legacy for their future.’_

He wanted to laugh at Hope’s warped sense of poetry.

 

 

  
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The sky flashed gold.

Golbez and Noel parted ways, the thaumaturge to the shining tower and the Guardian to the shadows of the north. He wanted to see the results of their struggle with his own eyes.

 

 

  
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The warriors of Cosmos were different this cycle. There was a shared camaraderie among them, and they all moved forward as one with clear sight. Their memories had been completely stripped—without Cosmos to protect what they had gained, Shinryu had consumed them all regardless of price. But the bonds they had forged still remained impressed in their hearts; now they walked together with renewed purpose.

Noel was overcome with relief when he saw Cloud among those with Cosmos. He wanted nothing more than to rush down there and embrace his friend—by what miracle Cloud managed to survive and join Cosmos’ side, he didn’t know—but he restrained himself. Cloud would not know him.

There were two missing that he had known: Lightning and Kain. In all, five had been killed while holding at bay the manikins spilling from the rift; all five were now lost within the Void like Hope, all forgotten by the surviving forces of Cosmos. But they had been successful. The rift was closed and the manikins reduced to manageable numbers. Now the survivors could focus on awakening their dormant crystals.

Noel stared down at Hope’s crystal floating above his fingertips, its brilliant light pulsating. He had heard the wishes of those lost upon that mountain top inside the Empyreal Paradox, the ones without a successor; wishes carried on by the ghosts of their unclaimed crystals.

‘Save them, save them all.’

Three sparks blazed into life in succession, orbiting Hope’s star. Wishes solidified them into crystal, shaped by the spirits who once bore them.

 _‘The crystals may save even the lost, Guardian. For good or ill,_ all _may be set free to determine their own destiny.’_ The last words of Golbez haunted him.

 

 

  
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Noel did not help the warriors of Cosmos fight Chaos.

But the scionless crystals fought with them. If that young esperkin and the red knight recognized the young ghost who shielded them from harm or if the Guardian of the Goddess noticed the unseen fists and gunblade following after his attacks, Noel didn’t know.

The scionless crystals shone bright that battle, in accord with their comrades and driven by hope.

 

 

  
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It was the end.

Cosmos had taken her gambit and her warriors had carried it through. Now here, at the edge of madness, Chaos was dying.

Noel, with his little moogling, were the only spectators to the god’s waning moments. The Guardian reached the top of the stair as the victorious were whisked away by their crystals, the echo of Chaos’ lament and remorse drifting over an angry world.

He came to stand before the broken god on his throne, even as the sky threw down flame and meteors in defiant fury. The cycles were broken and the war won. Noel didn’t know what would become of him. He had only the hope that Golbez’s words were true: that the crystals would save everyone and they would be restored to their homes.

( _Even if I weren’t saved… even if everyone forgot about me, as long as they are alive and happy…_ )

“So you have come, my Guardian, my betrayer.” Pain and sorrow quivered in the god’s voice. His limbs were decaying to ash and he wept tears of fire. “Have you come to witness my end? Is this your wish?”

Noel shook his head. He held out Hope’s crystal and its starlight was reflected in Chaos’ dimmed eyes.

“I’m here to witness your wish.”

“My … wish…” Chaos exhaled, falling back into his throne, shrunken.

“Do you still wish for revenge?” And Noel’s voice was full of pity for this creature, who had been born only for misuse. Noel had wanted to save him, but this was all he could do now. Kain had said Noel was afraid of his own strength, but, watching the dying Chaos, he realized was more afraid of the limits to it. What he couldn’t save had become too numerous to count. “There’s nothing more?”

Chaos closed his eyes. “I—”

Golden light flashed and a meteor screamed out of the heavens, crashing into the throne. Noel was flung back by the sudden onslaught. Mogki cried out in surprise, grabbing Noel’s waist sash as he tumbled off his perch. Thinking quickly, Noel called for his lance, plunging it into the stone just before the pair fell off the edge of the dais to the black rocks far below.

Dust and rocks rained and Noel coughed, shielding his face with an arm. Hope’s crystal floated by him, its light muted by the haze. “Chao—” he started between breaths, and then he stopped as a luminous eye, larger than himself, parted through the smoke. It was set in an enormous, many horned head, the golden armor and scales burnished bloody in the red light.

Noel froze, a strange fear pressing down from without. The cat-slit pupil focused on him, a great eyelid snapping shut and opening, birdlike, over that liquid orb. Mogki clung tight to Noel’s neck.

[I will fulfill this monster’s final wish.] The great voice reverberated within Noel’s skull and he stumbled back from the sheer weight of it. The smoke shredded into wisps, unveiling the great golden body, muscled and armored, perched atop what remained of Chaos’ throne—of what remained of Chaos.

“You’re—” the Guardian managed to choke out. His chest burned. He pressed a palm to it, as if he could smother the embers igniting inside his Heart.

The dragon’s maw opened, teeth flashing. It was laughing at him in silent derision. Noel clutched the shaft of his lance, wrenching it from stone.

Fingers of darkness slithered from under Shinryu’s deadly claws. The black tendrils twisted and wove through the air, a hungry fog, consuming all into shadow.

Noel’s eyes widened as he recognized the manifesting chaos, but a sudden stab of pain punched through his chest and he dropped to one knee with a cry. Mogki was wailing something but he couldn’t hear over the fevered beating of his heart in his ears. He could see the darkness approaching through his agony and he knew his Heart was reacting to its release.

Shinryu drew back and launched himself into the air past them on chaos-wreathed wings; the wind buffeted at man and moogling alike in a maelstrom of shadow. Noel felt Mogki’s grip slip on him and he reached out blindly, but his fingers only brushed fur before the moogling was flung away into the darkness left in Shinryu’s wake.

“Mogki!” Noel yelled, and then gagged on the infected air. It felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest. Liquid fire ran through his veins as the Heart of Chaos surged to fuel his body; his humanity struggled to contain it. He collapsed and chaos smothered him eagerly.

A light suddenly blazed with the brilliance of a star and the chaos blanketing Noel burned away with a silent hiss. From the light, many translucent wings flared open, encircling around the unconscious Guardian and cradling him within pale-green pinions. They shimmered and hardened into solid crystal, closed tight to the darkness.

Uncaring, the chaos crawled over the cocoon, skittering over the dead land and spilling out into the world beyond, poisoning, altering, mindlessly devouring.

And when the flood passed, only the crystal shell remained, holding tight its deepest wish within.

**act i. end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter than previous. Guess it's a bit of a reprieve, eh?
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading!


	6. act ii.

**act ii.**

Three years after the fall, Hope entered the Academy his father built, and from then on his life revolved around it. The desire to complete his education and work for the institution as swiftly as possible evolved into an unhealthy obsession. Other aspects of his life were ignored, including important things like food and sleep; and even then he studied while he ate and dreamt in calculations and theories.

He really couldn’t identify the fever driving him. Maybe it was something as simple as altruism or something as great as fixing history’s sins. Whatever it was, he just knew he had to get it done.

At one point, Snow crashed into Hope’s life with his usual tactless grace. The tall, self-proclaimed hero hadn’t changed much; Hope didn’t think anything could ever change Snow. He still took up too much space, his large body barely containing his eager, reckless energy. He still ruffled Hope’s hair even though Hope wasn’t fourteen any more, and he still called Hope ‘kid’ and ‘shortstuff,’ even though Hope really wasn’t much of either now.

_‘Hope, I think—no, I know—Lightning’s_ alive _.’_

Hearing that from Snow only affirmed the unease always sitting in Hope’s gut, the unease he tried to ignore underneath term papers and theses and lecture notes. Serah never believed their memories about Light’s fate, and Hope began to think that maybe no one in their group really did either. Hope realized maybe finding the truth was part of what he had to do and that only made him more determined than ever.

But with that Snow disappeared. Then Sazh and his son followed, and finally Serah too.

Hope was left behind with the Academy and an obsession with a past he couldn’t change and a future he couldn’t see.

_‘This is my promise.’_

  
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When Hope would finally give into his body’s demand for real sleep, he sometimes thought he heard someone calling him, though he didn’t recognize the voice.

_‘On our homeworld, you and I—well, we haven’t met.’_

( _Does this mean someday we will?_ )

But when he woke, his memory would dissipate with the fading of dreams.

  
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He studied general relativity and string theory and specialized in quantum mechanics. He was interested in the physics of spacetime and paradoxes, but he also dabbled in other sciences. He took classes in philosophy, political science, and oration. He crammed his head with so much knowledge that he sometimes wondered how it just didn’t burst.

His father was concerned, but Hope never complained. Instead, he learned how to hide behind smiles, how to apply cosmetics to mask the circles under his eyes, and how to brew the perfect espresso. Perceived as aloof, he had no social life and no friends—just professional colleagues and lab partners. It suited him fine. He had no time. He wasn’t even sure what he was racing against.

But in the end, he did it. At nineteen, Hope was appointed the youngest director on the Academy’s board, in addition to heading its largest and most experienced sect, Team Alpha. Some members questioned Hope’s promotion, whispering nepotism because Hope’s father was the founder of the Academy. It didn’t matter. Hope knew his achievements would speak for themselves.

Out of everyone he cared about, only his father witnessed this monumental accomplishment. Everyone else was gone. The celebration was short.

Afterwards, Hope worked even harder. Most days, he never saw the white stars or the blue sky. Time ceased to have meaning and eventually just stopped altogether.

  
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_‘You mean you’re the only person left in the world?’_

_‘In about seven hundred years from your time.’_

  
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Leaning back in his chair, Hope swiped a stylus across the tablet, turning the displayed page. The research paper concerning the Time Gate at Bresha Ruins was remarkably coherent; he wondered why he hadn’t heard of this Alyssa Zaidelle before.

He flipped through her meticulous dissertation, impressed. Her analysis of the Time Gate and the events surrounding the paradox at the ruins was precise in its detail. He’d have to have someone contact her for a meeting; he wondered if anything may have possibly been left out of the report. He wanted to know everything, even if it was just conjecture.

Musing, he turned the page and stopped. The image of the Time Gate was crisp despite the rain, its ethereal golden glow illuminating the young woman standing in front of it.

He stared at the picture. How long had it been? Serah, just disappearing from the world. Just like everyone else: Light, Snow, Sazh, and Dajh… only he had been left behind, but the questions kept him from moving on. The Time Gate at Bresha Ruins and the incidents surrounding it was the only lead Hope had about the events surrounding everyone’s disappearances. And Serah’s presence confirmed he was on the right track.

Excited, he flipped to the next image; Serah again, but her companion—the one that had virtually spirited her away, according to NORA—was standing behind her. Blue-violet eyes were smiling at her. Even muted by the weather, the color was vivid.

Hope moved onto the next image, clinically observing the details in the photos, from the script on their clothing to the weapons they carried.

‘ _This is my promise_ ,’ a small voice said. It sounded like a younger him, but he didn’t know why or what promise was made.

Hope continued to read through the file, calculating and taking notes. If he was right, perhaps Time would start again for him soon.

  
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He attributed the deja vu to the fact that he was meeting them again for the first time. Serah said they had fixed a paradox; in response, the timeline self-corrected, altering the memories of those affected.

So Hope had no problem believing that, because he felt he was already familiar with Serah’s time-travelling companion, even though Hope couldn’t recall ever meeting him before.

Regardless, he was pretty suspicious of the hunter; this kid had just popped out of nowhere, kidnapped Serah under the premise that he knew where Light was, and then disappeared with her for years?

But when Noel laughed off his introduction, titles in full array—”I remember, Mr. Director, Team Alpha”—Hope’s suspicions slaked off into unease. It was not unlike the unease he always felt about Light’s “death”—that something wasn’t right, that whatever his brain was telling him didn’t match his heart.

He couldn’t place the reason behind the feeling so he compartmentalized it into a locked off section of his mind to worry over later.

But when Noel talked about the dying world of his time, the uneasiness burst out of its little closet, hitting him tenfold.

‘ _Where I come from… there weren’t a lot of people left. And eventually, I was the only one._ ’

It was as if a different Noel was speaking over the Noel standing before him. Was this an effect from the altered timeline?

‘ _So I don’t like being alone. I’m afraid of being left alone._ ’

Or maybe not. The confession seemed so personal—he couldn’t imagine two strangers, no matter their mutual friends, sharing a detail like that. Concentrating, he tried to ignore the Noel in his mind.

“It doesn’t have to happen!” Serah stepped forward suddenly, her eyes alight with determination as she addressed her companion. “Noel, we can change the future. We can stop Cocoon from falling, and make your world a better place.”

The epiphany was a light turning on. Suddenly all those fevered days working and those nights studying were illuminated with understanding. Hope wasn’t just trying to find the truth behind Light’s fate. He wasn’t just trying to bring back Vanille and Fang and his mother. He wasn’t even just trying to make the world a better place after the overthrow of the fal’Cie.

Everything was interconnected, the past and the future. He had to save them all.

  
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“You know, I might not get another chance, so I just wanted to say ‘thank you.’” Noel had meandered over to his side while Serah was chatting with Alyssa. Everyone was in high spirits due to the success of locating the graviton cores.

Glancing away from his computer monitor, Hope blinked at the hunter in surprise. He didn’t expect this. “Whatever for?”

“Well,” Noel smiled, “you’re working pretty hard to fix the future I come from.”

Hope turned back to the computer, feeling self-conscious in a way he hadn’t been for years. He hated being alone with Noel; something about the hunter made him uncomfortable on a subconscious level and he couldn’t identify why. “As are you and Serah.”

“Yeah, but you don’t really have a personal stake like we do.”

“My friends are trapped in that pillar,” Hope said, frowning at the monitor though it did nothing wrong. “Even if I was dead, I don’t think I’d rest easy knowing something would happen to them.”

Noel laughed. “You really don’t take gratitude well.”

Hope’s frown deepened and he turned it on Noel. “It’s not that. I don’t want you to erroneously believe I’m doing something extraordinary.”

“Just something you have to do, huh?”

Hope stared at him for a long moment and Noel only smiled again, violet eyes kind.

“Whatever your reasons, thanks anyway. And for the record,” Noel wagged a finger at the scientist, “I think what you’re doing is pretty damn extraordinary too.”

  
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Hope adjusted the tie of his dress uniform, mentally reviewing his speech. Three days had passed since Serah and Noel had left, but his work was just beginning here. The Academy was holding a press conference for the New Cocoon Project and Hope, as the founding director for the project, had offered to be the spokesman. Noel had said that a war followed after the fall of the old Cocoon, driven by terror and anti-Academy sentiment; Hope felt that honest, transparent communication about the new Cocoon would quell the public’s concerns.

It was fear that had, in part, caused those tragic events which had changed Hope’s life so many years ago. The fear of the unknown led the public to shun anything from Gran Pulse, to treat the l’Cie as less than human, and to hold silent approval for the mass murder known as the Purge. Hope believed that knowledge was power—that if the people were informed and knew what lay ahead, their fears would be appeased and more welcome to the migration.

Brushing off invisible lint from the half-tippet of his overcoat, he ran a gloved hand carefully down the golden Academy insignia embroidered onto the right side. Transparency in authority was what his father had believed and why he had created the Academy. Integrity, knowledge, and the wisdom to use them both—his father had laid down the principles of the Academy and entrusted them to his son. The people had to learn from the past and protect the future, so they wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes.

They had come so far. In Hope’s original time, the Academy was still a fledgling, still dealing with the aftermath of the overthrow of the Sanctum. But here, 400 years in the future, the seed planted by his father—and himself—had sprouted and grown tall and strong. Now they had to keep it that way to prevent Noel’s future from occurring.

An aide knocked, opening the door with a hiss. It was time to go.

The enormous antechamber was filled with wide vidscreens and spheroid cambots, its seats filled with VIPs and representatives from the news media. The center podium was elevated, surrounded by transparent holodisplays and bright lighting.

Hope still remembered when he used to get nervous during these conferences; he couldn’t truthfully say he still didn’t get a little apprehensive beforehand. But he found it more comfortable to talk to a large number of strangers than one person. Though all their eyes were on him, he didn’t have to focus on a single face, and it was easier to talk in impersonal abstracts than intimate feelings.

This time his speech went beyond the usual technical lectures he was used to; now he was presented as one of the most famous Directors of the Academy’s history, emerging from the past to guide the future. He believed in his new Cocoon and he wanted the public to understand that. He went over the specifications of the satellite, assuring its safety and security. He detailed the migration process, where the funding was coming from and where it was going to. He spoke of the strength of humans, of their will and desire; he spoke of a rising sun for tomorrow.

He will be the one to launch the new Cocoon, but only the people will be the ones to decide for themselves the future they wanted. So Hope threw all his passion and charisma into his discourse: reassuring, encouraging, cajoling, clarifying. He had to make them understand.

The address ended to thunderous applause from those in attendance and Hope wore a magnanimous smile, though inside he was mentally exhausted. But he couldn’t leave yet; a PR rep opened the floor to questions from the media personnel.

He never noticed he had been shot.

He was answering a question fielded from a livestream when the antechamber went strangely quiet, the hum of the electronics deafening. His speech slowed and words choked up in his throat. His chest burned and he rubbed it curiously. His gloved hand came away wet, the white stained red.

The conference suddenly erupted into a cacophony of buzzing and screams, bursting inside his eardrums. Camera lights flashed in his eyes as his legs wobbled, and he caught himself on the podium, fighting to stand up as his mind raced to understand what was going on. Security personnel bounded toward him; someone strong caught him.

He heard meds being called. Security being called. His name being called. The lights were bright in his eyes. Detachedly he wanted to loosen his collar; it felt so tight and he was burning up inside. There was so much noise, roaring in his ears, and over it all his name shouted over and over.

( _I can hear you fine…_ ) His eyelids fluttered. He wanted to close them.

“Hope! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Yer gonna be okay!”

Hands pressed to his chest and he gasped wetly in pain. A dark face blocked the white noise blinding his vision.

( _...Noel…?_ ) It seemed irrational but it was the first name to come to mind.

“Hang on, shortstuff!”

Only one person still called him that; Hope didn’t know if the hoarse, thick sounds bubbling from his throat were chuckles or coughs. He was lifted up and the lights swam into Snow’s face before sweet darkness dropped over him.

  
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Seeing the manikins spill from the rift had triggered a memory inside Hope. One of the manikins had been a hulking suit of armor, crowned with long antlers. The memory was of a meeting with the original and the conversation they had shared.

_‘He follows you because you are doomed to die and be reborn, in the name of this war.’_

Resting a cheek on upraised knees, Hope gazed down at the sleeping Noel beside him. The conversation had happened previously—before he had died. And how many times had he died before that? He still couldn’t wrap his head around dying and being reborn.

_‘If you are defeated, your memories are traded for purification at the start of a new cycle.’_

He couldn’t remember his death. But he remembered a sense of desperation to hold onto his memories during the moment of dying—especially the memories of Noel.

_‘To repeatedly lose someone he loves, only to gain them back but without the bond… the depth of his loneliness is unfathomable.’_

Hesitantly, he touched the feathers in Noel’s hair, ghosting fingertips over the fringe of the Guardian’s bangs. Hope admired his strength; Noel never showed any indication he might be suffering. That was something Hope could never do.

_‘The cycles cannot continue like this.’_

No, Hope agreed, they couldn’t. Carefully, he got to his feet.

“Kupo?” Mogki mumbled sleepily from atop his head and Hope gently pulled him off, holding a finger to his lips.

Carrying the moogling, Hope squeezed himself out of the enormous tree hollow they had taken shelter in. The moon had already set and the night was dark and still, starlight blotted out by purple clouds. Not even the wind stirred, as if the world was holding its breath.

[...Ho-po...?]

Hope set Mogki down on the ground and crouched down in front of it.

“Mogki,” he whispered. “Can you do something for me?”

The moogling rubbed an eye, still half-asleep. It nodded, its pompom bobbling.

“Stay with Noel. You can’t ever leave him alone. Can you promise me that?”

Dazed, the moogling nodded again. [Mogki’ll never leave Noel, kupo. Ho-po’ll never leave Noel too.]

That hit Hope harder than he though, but he shoved down the guilt and rubbed Mogki’s ears. He had to believe he was doing the right thing. “I’m counting on you. I have to leave now.” He tried to smile, but it came out wobbly. He tried again and was more successful. “Take care, Mogki.”

The moogling watched him go, but Hope didn’t think it really understood what Hope was asking.

The journey to Sanctuary was long; doubt bit at his heels and he almost turned back numerous times. But memories of Noel haunted him and he drove himself blindly on.

_Don’t die, okay? You have to stay alive, no matter what._   
_(Why would you say that to someone you barely met?)_   
_No one’s here by coincidence—you and your other have a connection and that’s what helps trigger your memories._   
_(So what is our connection?)_   
_I’ve just been here for a very long time._   
_(How many cycles have you seen the ones around you die?)_   
_Go to sleep, Hope. I won’t let anything happen to you._   
_(How many cycles did you have to live with my death?)_   
_I’m afraid of being alone._   
_(Then why don’t we stay together?)_   
_I knew you were my other the moment I saw you._   
_(How are we not enemies?)_   
_On our homeworld, you and I—well, we haven’t met._   
_(Does this mean someday we will?)_   
_I couldn’t save anyone._   
_(That’s why I can’t let this continue.)_

It was the beginning of his wish and despite his fear, he knew it was something he had to do.

  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

  
“Hope! Hope!” Someone shook his shoulder. “Sleepytime’s over!”

Groaning irritably, Hope slapped away the hands prodding him. He rolled onto his side, curling up. He ached all over. “I’m going to change my name…”

“Oh, finally! You’re awake.” Long fingers pinched his cheek. “Man, where’d that cute baby fat go?”

Opening a bleary eye, Hope glared at the invasive stranger. Uncombed brown hair topped a sharp, average-looking face. Wide hazel eyes blinked and thin lips slowly pulled into a crooked smile. For a moment, the illusion of a crown of blazing feathers alighted upon his brow.

Hope’s glare faded into confusion; did he know this young man? He certainly seemed to know Hope. Was he an intern? No, he couldn’t be—no intern would treat the former Director so familiarly.

There was a gentle tug on Hope’s cowlick. “But you still have this,” the man said happily and with that, a hard pain pounded inside Hope’s head, like a hammer knocking down the walls blocked around parts of his memory.

He cried out, pressing the flats of his hands to his temples. Images flew by so rapidly that he didn’t have time to consciously process them; his head throbbed at the information overload.

“Oh, yeah.” The young man rubbed circles into Hope’s back. “Uh, don’t try to fight it and just let it do its thing.”

After an eternity, Hope turned wearily toward the young man—Bartz, it was Bartz, largely unchanged—a dull headache echoing at the back of his brain. “What’s…?”

Memories flickered one past another, like a picture slideshow. He had been shot at the conference. He had died for a Goddess. He had been working to save Cocoon. He had been fighting in a war. He had been a l’Cie. He had been a Warrior of Cosmos. He had…

Bartz helped him sit up, smiling. “Long time no see! Must’ve been a really long time for you—you’re way older! Though…” and his smile lost a bit of its sunshine, “too bad we couldn’t have met some place less depressing.”

Hope glanced around, not recognizing the surroundings. The lighting was odd, softening colors and dampening lines. The sky overhead was a flat grey, no sun or clouds. “Where is this?” A line of dark trees surrounded them; the grass under him was dry, crackling under every shift of his body.

“Home sweet home, I guess. For now. Again.” Bartz stood, dusting himself off. “Not sure why we’re here—I thought we had won.”

“Here…?” Hope’s eyes widened. “You mean—”

“Yup.” Bartz pointed. “You can even see Sanctuary over there.”

Hope twisted around; the tower of Sanctuary rose in the far distance, veiled by mist. It was dark against the colorless sky.

More memories flared up like candles. Quickly, Hope yanked up his coat-sleeve and pulled down the sash around his wrist. A black brand stared up at him, the red eye in the center brilliant in the muted light.

With a soft exhale, he covered the l’Cie brand back up, straightening his sleeve. It was at the last stage, but there was no fear of turning into a Cie’th. This place existed between moments: Time had no meaning here. And he was indeed here, in that strange otherworld, where he had once been called to fight in a war.

Where he had died several times.

Where he had first met—

Hope got to his feet. “It appears we were summoned back. But you said we had won?”

“Yup.” Bartz frowned a bit as Hope rose to his full height, measuring his own against Hope’s with a hand. “We fought Chaos and then we returned to our homes, only I didn’t remember any of that on my homeworld. Then one day I’m minding my own business and whoosh, I fell off a cliff.” He rubbed his chin. “When I woke up, I was here, and all those memories just suddenly came rushing all back. And I mean allllll of it, even ones I forgot about while I was here.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Hope chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. “This time, it seems we have retained memories of our homeworld and regained ones we had lost.”

“Everything’s just weird.” Bartz gestured around them, at the washed out colors and faded sky. “There’s a whole lotta manikins and a whole lotta monsters and a whole lotta nothing else.”

Suddenly, a thin prick of warning slithered down the back of Hope’s neck; he held up a hand for silence, tilting his head toward the line of trees on their right. Something was coming. A greyed silhouette poured out from under the shadows of black branches.

“Squall!” Bartz shouted in recognition, waving a skinny arm. “Hope’s awake!”

A man about Hope’s age strode toward them, white lions of flame twisting about his head before swept away by invisible wind. His dark hair was longer, spilling over the furred collar of his black and red jacket, and his storm grey eyes seemed less unfriendly. Even though he was older, Hope easily remembered him—if nothing else, the scar remained the same.

“You’ve grown,” Squall greeted.

“So have you,” Hope replied warmly. Squall flashed him a brief smile and Hope felt that Squall had grown indeed. “As pleasant as this is, Bartz was just informing me of the situation. How long have you two been here?”

“A day?” Squall arched a brow at Bartz for confirmation.

“Hmm.” Bartz squinted in thought. “Probably. I found Squall not too soon after I got here. We were heading to Sanctuary when we saw this bright meteor flash in the sky. So we came to investigate and found you.”

“Sanctuary?” Hope asked.

Squall nodded. “Seemed like the best place to go to get our questions answered. Always started every cycle by going to Sanctuary—don’t see why this should be any different.”

“Ah, then you remember everything too? Did you almost die on your homeworld and then awoke here as well?”

Another nod.

“Memories were a fee for rebirth in this place,” Hope said, pacing. “We can’t even enter without paying. I’m rather concerned. Something’s wrong.”

Bartz tilted his head. “I wonder if it’s cause Cosmos died?”

Hope stopped. “Because you got your crystals? That could have some validity...”

“Yeah.” The mime blinked. “Hey, you know about that?”

“Yes, well… long story.”

“We can worry about all of that later,” Squall said. “No point standing around here. Let’s get to Sanctuary first and see what we find.”

  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

  
The world was much changed since Hope had last been here, thirteen years in his past. He remembered a wild variety of landscapes: lush, barren, rugged, empty, populated only by a few enterprising moogles and the occasional manikin. It was untamed wilderness filled with odd anachronisms—’dimensional clashes’ Zidane had once told him—and with the crumbled ruins of a lost civilization. In retrospect, this otherworld reminded him of Gran Pulse—perhaps his fascination for Gran Pulse stemmed from the buried memories he had of this place.

But it wasn’t like that any longer. The vivid colors and dramatic silhouettes were bleached and cracked, and the eldritch light tainted everything, turning the world two-dimensional. The air was stale and sounds were dulled. Sanctuary was a shadow on the horizon.

There lacked a sense of day or night. The sky was always that flat grey, cloudless, sunless, moonless. It would only darken to slate during what passed for night, devoid of stars. The flora lost their green; and monsters thrived, but they were mutated and savage, aggressively attacking any potential food source.

For the first day, they ran into no one, either Chaos or Cosmos. Manikins were abound, stronger and sometimes almost human, a few in the forms of warriors none of the three recognized. The somber, lonely atmosphere dampened their spirits as they trudged on; no one knew what to expect at Sanctuary.

They finally met two others the next day at a crossroads. Bartz merrily latched onto a dark-haired woman in black whom Hope didn’t know, though she was crowned with the mark of Cosmos, a halo of keys. Her companion was an older blond man in sea blue and white armor; the armor had a familiar cut, but Hope couldn’t quite place the face. He too bore the a crown of Cosmos, dragons twisted together, and Hope knew he had seen it before.

The man inclined his head at Squall and Hope. “So we meet again.”

Squall frowned. “Do we know you?”

But the moment the man spoke, Hope recognized him—that throaty, measured baritone and archaic language had guided Hope numerous times from behind a carved dragon helm. “Kain!” Hope beamed boyishly, clasping the man’s hands.

Kain inclined his head in return, purple eyes crinkling at the corners as he grasped Hope’s forearms in a return greeting. “You have matured well, Hope.”

“Whao, that’s Kain?” Bartz said in awe, an arm around the woman’s waist.

“Right? Who knew he was so handsome under all that?” the woman added with a smirk.

“Foolishness,” Kain said, though he shifted self-consciously.

Hope tried not to laugh, wondering at this change in Kain. “He’s certainly less intimidating now.”

“No truer words spoken,” the woman agreed and she held out her hand to Hope. “I’m Tifa. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Hope shook her hand; her grip was firm. “No. I wasn’t around for very long. My name is Hope.”

She smiled, dark eyes warm. Hope instantly liked her; she was sunny like Bartz but lacked his whimsical energy. “Can’t be worse than me. I was here just for one round.”

“That one round gave us the opportunity to win,” Squall said and Tifa laughed.

“Since when did you become so encouraging?” Squall just smiled faintly at her teasing and she gasped in shock. “Now I know this is a dream!’

The five settled early to catch up on missed time and to discuss the mysterious circumstances of their return to the otherworld. Hope learned that Kain and Tifa had been expelled from the cycles after his own banishment; only Squall and Bartz had been there for the supposed victory over Chaos.

Both the dragoon and brawler had woken up here after near death experiences in their homeworld, memories intact. They had found each other and decided to head to Sanctuary, much as Squall, Bartz, and Hope had done.

“It is as if the war continued despite the victory,” Kain said, eyes hooded. “Perhaps a new foe arose to replace the old?”

“Or maybe one of Chaos’ minions supplanted him,” Hope mused. “The Emperor or Garland?”

Squall shook his head. “We defeated them. I can’t see how that could happen.”

“And that doesn’t explain what happened to this place.” Tifa gestured around at the copse of grey rocks and scraggly brush they were sheltering in. Black brambles twisted out from cracks, crumbling their grainy surface. “It’s like… the world is in some kind of stasis.”

Hope leaned back on his hands, staring at the blank heavens. “Never dreamed I’d return here—or that it’d be like this.” The memories of this otherworld were a strange curiosity to him, like discovering vintage photographs, hidden in an attic. His ordeal here had shaped him before his growth back on his homeworld; perhaps that’s why he was able to let go of his resentment and hatred toward Snow so easily when he had returned to Palumpolum.

He also had met Noel here, long before he would meet Noel as an adult. In retrospect, he had a feeling Noel knew exactly who he would grow up to be; it made him wonder when Noel had entered this world in his time—it had to have been after they had met in 10 AF.

But once everyone returned, Noel—like Hope—didn’t remember their time together in this otherworld, and it was probably better that way. The bonds they had forged here should remain here. Noel had a lot on his mind already, working with Serah to fix the paradoxes plaguing the timelines. There was no point drudging up that forgotten history.

( _When…_ did _Noel first arrive in this place?_ ) The thought drifted across his memories and he seized on it with sudden anxiety. Why did the question seem so important?

“Do you think the others came back too?” Bartz drew abstract designs in the fine dust at his feet with a twig. “I miss Zidane.”

“I wonder about that,” Tifa replied. “Kain and I didn’t see anyone while we were travelling. Not even someone from Chaos.”

“The best thing to do right now is to get to Sanctuary,” Squall said. “We’re wasting time just going over questions we don’t have answers for. If anyone else is here, you can bet they’ll head there too.”

“I agree.” Kain stood. “Rest, while you can. I will guard your slumber.”

_‘Can I ask you something? About your immortality…’_   
_‘Go ahead.’_   
_‘How did you—I mean, were you born with it? Or was it something that… happened?’_   
_‘I killed a man and inherited his curse. I was born to do exactly that and that’s exactly what ended up happening.’_

( _It wasn’t that you didn’t remember; it was that you didn’t know. In my time, you didn’t travel to the otherworld yet._ )

( _Why does this bother me?_ )

Hope watched the unchanging sky. It did little to quell his uneasiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter distinctly lacking in Noel. :(
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading!


	7. act ii. cycle xx.

**act ii. cycle xx.**

The party was somber as Sanctuary loomed tall before them, a shadow staining the grey sky. The white tower’s inner light was snuffed out, its stone pinnacles eaten by decay and smeared with ash. The great arches were broken wings, obscuring the tumbled gate, and the bridge was gone.

“What happened…?” Tifa asked as they drew near, standing at the edge of the cliff. The stormy sea crashed below.

“The same thing that seems to have affected the rest of the world,” Squall said. “Maybe Cosmos is gone.”

Hope shook his head. “Cosmos can’t be dead. Who summoned us here then? We all bear her mark...”

They stood there in silence, dark thoughts sweeping all.

“Well.. how are we going to get across…?” Bartz eyed the drop from behind Squall.

“A leap of faith,” Kain said with grim humor.

Bartz shot him a dirty look. “No way am I jumping that.”

Kain shook his head. “I merely jest. Fear not—I will ferry each across.”

“Nuh uh. No way am I letting you carry me over that. I’ll just stay here.”

While Tifa worked on convincing Bartz, Kain took the others one by one over the chasm, jumping through meters of empty air to safely land at the base of Sanctuary’s tower. After Kain set him down, Hope carefully threaded his way through the rubble of arches and gate to stand before the yawning entrance gaping wide and unguarded.

Up close, Sanctuary seemed even more like the skeleton of a corpse. Hope rubbed his arms through his sleeves. The echo of the subdued voices from his friends behind him was swallowed quickly by the emptiness beyond the gate.

Apprehensive of what lay inside, Hope forced himself to take a step forward through the ruined gate.

“Hey, wait up!” he heard Tifa yell, and the others quickly followed after him.

The grey light was more bleak inside, scaling all in monochrome without any contrast. The broken statuaries seemed painted in their niches, watching with empty eyes as the Warriors passed. Their slow, wary footsteps were hollow knocks which were not answered.

Hope shivered despite his thick coat. Even Bartz seemed too melancholy to talk.

The hall opened into the massive antechamber, once a great forum with arcing buttresses and beautiful frescos splashed on its towering walls. All now was in ruins, the frescos defiled and the architecture in decay as the rest. Llight from outside streamed in from cracks and pits in the walls, filtering through musty air. A raised dais at the center of the chamber stood dark; the summoning glyph tattooed onto its stone no longer shone with the magic to enter the Goddess’ Rest, the heart of the tower.

They split up in silence as each circled around what remained of their former haven. Hope ran a hand over a blackened painting; he remembered the picturesque castle by a lake it used to depict. His gloved fingers smudged the soot, trying to clean it off, but the colors underneath were worn.

“This is horrible,” Bartz said from across the chamber. “Did Chaos do this? I thought we won!”

“Who else could have?” Tifa said.

“I’ve been pondering that. Maybe something not Chaos or Cosmos,” Hope murmured, folding his arms over his chest in thought.

“Not Chaos or Cosmos?” Kain asked.

Hope wasn’t quite sure. _‘I wasn’t summoned by Chaos. I was brought to Chaos...’_ Was that what he had said? “It’s just conjecture, but I don’t think Chaos and Cosmos were the only deities playing with our lives here. Do you remember Noel? I think I recall him mentioning a third party had summoned him into the war...”

“So maybe a third party also summoned us here… or they were the ones responsible for all this.” Squall frowned. “Neither option seems favorable.”

“Looks like we found more questions and no answers.” Tifa circled the center dais, but it remained unresponsive. “If Cosmos is here, it doesn’t seem like we can reach her.”

[...Ho-po?]

Hope’s head jerked up in surprise at the timid voice calling his name. Only one creature had that verbal tic. “Mogki?” he called out into emptiness. Everyone glanced about uncertainly.

A little moogling fluttered down from the high vaulted ceiling, hovering tentatively above the group. [Did Ho-po come back?] It too seemed affected by the world, the pink hues of its pompom and berry nose muted, the white fur tinted grey with shadow.

Hope stepped forward, holding up his arms to invite the moogling down. “Mogki, why are you—?”

Mogki threw itself at him, burrowing itself into his neck with a sob. [Ho-po! Mogki missed you, kupo! Where was Ho-po? Noel’s so lonely without Ho-po too!]

“N-noel?” Hope pulled the moogling away, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

The moogling lifted its head, tears bubbling at the corner of its upturned eyes. [Has Ho-po come to help Noel fight? Noel’s been fighting a long, long time, kupo.]

Heart thudding, Hope glanced quickly at Kain as the dragoon approached with a frown. “Little one, where is the Guardian now?”

But as he asked, a warning shiver suddenly thrilled down Hope’s spine. Without thinking, he threw himself at Kain when a crackling bolt of shadow arced overhead, narrowly missing the dragoon. The two landed heavily on the ground and then Squall was there before them, blocking a second bolt with this gunblade.

Kain was up in a flash, a blur of blue and white as he jumped high up into the air with lance in hand. A shadow slid to the ground behind Hope as the scientist staggered to his feet; Squall shoved Hope aside, gunblade flashing in the grey light to clash against jagged steel.

Mogki clung to Hope’s shoulder, wings aflutter in agitation. [Noel! Stop! They’re not bad, kupo!]

Hope whirled around as Squall and his opponent locked into a furious dance of ringing blades. Tifa ran up and pulled at the scientist as he stared in disbelief at their attacker. It was Noel, faded by the world, limbs wreathed in coils of shadow as he pressed Squall back toward Tifa and Hope.

“Noel…” he breathed. What was he doing here? Was he called back too?

“You know this guy?” Tifa exclaimed as she quickly checked to make sure Hope was uninjured. Hope just stared numbly. Why was Noel attacking them?

Then white shot down from above, Kain plummeting with lance extended. Noel spun, tangling his gladius with Squall’s weapon while meeting the spear within the curves of his twin-bladed sword, twisting and snapping the shaft. The lance disappeared into sparks, but Kain landed without pause, surging forward to bodily ram into the Guardian. His shoulder met empty air as Noel moved like lightning behind him, slashing at Kain’s unguarded back.

But Bartz was there, sliding his own lance forward to catch the attack with a steely scrape. Noel leapt back and Bartz unsummoned his weapon, holding out his empty hands in a plea.

“Noel!” the mime cried. “Don’t you recognize us?”

The Guardian’s eyes flicked to each in turn; unlike the rest of him, they were bright—two spots of visceral blue like a deepening night devoid of stars. They landed on Hope last and remained there. The cold hate within hit Hope hard and he faltered back.

The movement triggered something inside Noel; with a silent cry, he rushed at the scientist, killing aura writhing about him like black wings. Cursing, Squall met the onslaught, but with a burst of chaotic energy, Noel sent him flying.

Startled out of his stupor, Hope reached out and a spiral of wind gently caught Squall’s unconscious body, settling him safely on the ground. He whirled to face the charging Noel, freezing at the animosity driven to harm him. “Noel—”

“Hope!” Tifa shouted and she pushed him back, quickly blocking the incoming gladius with her metal gauntlets. She spun, agile as a cat, dropping and sweeping low with her leg to knock Noel off his feet. He flipped back with inhuman dexterity, his weapons reforming into his javelin and launching it at Tifa as he landed.

She sprang out of its path, flipping once in front of Noel with one hand, pushing herself up with a rising kick. Her heavy boot narrowly missed Noel’s face and he snatched her leg, jerking her aside without a thought.

Kain easily caught her and Bartz skimmed past the two, twin daggers in hand.

Dumbly, Hope watched the trio engage Noel. Phantom blades of darkness swirled around Noel, echoing his movements as he easily held his own against the combined assault. Logically Hope knew he should be assisting, either with magical enhancements or attacks, but he was rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by all the emotions and thoughts whirling around in his head like a violent sandstorm. _‘Noel’s so lonely… Noel’s been fighting a long, long time...’_ Mogki’s words spun around.

( _Was he left behind? Had he been here all this time?_ )  
( _Did I leave him to this?_ )

Mogki shrieked Noel’s name in his ear and Hope snapped out of it. Noel countered a pincer attack from Bartz and Tifa, a shadow blade sliding up under his own sword to stab at the mime. Quickly, Hope conjured up a barrier in time to protect Bartz from a fatal blow. But the force of the clash between barrier and chaotic energy sent the unsteady Bartz smashing into a wall, and he fell, still.

Dark pinnacles sheared up from the ground around Noel and both Kain and Tifa twisted away. With a clear opening, Hope conjured tidal walls around Noel, the least harmful magic he could think of, and the deluge swelled down. He didn’t know what was going on, but if Noel could be restrained without harm, he was going to try to do it.

However, with a loud crack, fingers of ice webbed over the raging water to hold it in its frozen grip. Chaotic energy crawled over the towering glaciers, shattering them into tiny shards of shining crystal.

Kain and Tifa shot at Noel from opposite sides as the sparkling motes fell, but he moved quickly, reaching past Kain’s stabbing lance to grab the man by the forearm. Darkness engulfed the dragoon and without pause, Noel twisted, slinging him at Tifa. Hope barely had time to cushion their skid across the stone floor with wind before something solid smashed into his chest and stomach.  
  
He landed hard on his back, air whooshing out of his lungs as Noel straddled square on top of him. Strong hands wrapped around his neck and Hope’s own flew up to clutch at Noel’s wrists, pulling. “N-noel…!” His voice cracked. He could feel the muscles in Noel’s arms flex, fingers pressing hard into his trachea.

Calm rage molded Noel’s face into an unrecognizable mask, his brows drawn low over vividly colored eyes and lips curled over bared teeth.

Hope didn’t want to hurt him. Noel must have been taken by some fit of madness. There could be no other reason why Noel would attack his comrades, why Noel was staring at him with such disgusted hate. Hope tried to speak again, but Noel suddenly squeezed harder. “I will not forgive,” the Guardian snarled and black spots swam over Hope’s vision, “dolls taking his form.”

“Noe—” Hope’s fingers dug into Noel’s wrists, desperation growing. Dolls? Did Noel think he was a manikin? Either way, he had no choice; it felt like his neck was going to snap. Sparks of electricity crackled under his palms; maybe a shock would be enough to get the Guardian off him.

[Noel!] A ball of white dove at Noel’s head, thrashing. Grunting in surprise, Noel’s grip slackened and Hope gasped at sweet air through his bruised windpipe. The Guardian swatted at the moogling, trying to reach for Hope, but Mogki hovered in front of him, tiny arms out in a protective gesture.

[It’s Ho-po!]

Noel growled something unintelligible; he shoved away the moogling. Hope caught his hands as they reached for him, gripping them tight as he wheezed for air, eyes watering from the pain. Words jammed up in his damaged throat but he tried to force them out, to address the fey glint in Noel’s eyes.

“I’m sor—” He grimaced in pain and swallowed it down with difficulty.

A shining silver blade flashed beside Noel’s neck; Squall stood behind him, bleeding but whole. His face was grim. “Don’t move,” he warned the Guardian, pressing the edge of his gunblade against exposed skin.

Noel didn’t even hear him, homicidally intent on Hope. He strained against Hope’s hold, lunging forward. The edge of the gunblade slid through flesh; startled, Squall jerked it away, crimson droplets splattering onto stone.

A hoarse cry tore through Hope’s broken throat; he released Noel to draw him close, remembering the way Noel had suffered through rebirth. The Guardian struggled ferociously against the restraint, but Hope clung tight and then Noel went deathly still. Sticky warmth seeped into Hope’s clothes and against his skin; Noel was bleeding out. But Hope could feel him breathing against him, sudden, panicked breaths. Fingers clutched at his coat. Tendrils of chaos curled around them.

Squall lifted his sword but Hope shook his head frantically. Noel was tense, but it wasn’t the coil of fight as before.

“Hope!” he heard Tifa say. She knelt down, face drawn as she looked down at him. “You okay?” Her hands hovered uncertainly above him, as if unsure if she should pull away Noel.

He nodded, though his heart was beating a mile a minute, his arms a vise around the Guardian. He was terrified. After Noel healed himself, would he attack them again? Would he just kill Hope right now, as they were? Hope wasn’t sure he could fight back. But he had to—he had to get home, there were people depending on him.

Noel was depending on him…

“...I can hear it...”

The words were so soft that Hope knew he was the only one to hear them, thrumming against his chest. He lifted his head to stare down at Noel, but his throat screamed in protest and he gasped sharply, arms slackening in shock. Tifa gently placed a hand on his forehead to push him back down.

Noel suddenly wrenched out of Hope’s grasp, propping himself up to stare down Hope with wide eyes, no longer filled with mindless hate. His collar was slicked red, but the wound was gone. “Your heartbeat...”

Hope matched his stare, not sure what to say even if he could.

Noel turned those lost eyes around to Tifa and Squall, to Bartz and Kain approaching. “You’re not manikins… Are you real…?” His voice was small, shrunk by wonder.

Mogki wobbled up by Hope, peeping over his shoulder at the Guardian. [It’s Ho-po, Noel.] The moogling snuffled. [Ho-po came back.]

Fingers ghosted over Hope’s bruises; Noel jerked his hands away, clenching them into fists. He got slowly to his feet, gazing at each in turn, before covering his face with a hand. He was smiling bitterly.

“So you’ve all come to die.” He laughed, a short bark, and Hope’s heart ached at the sound. “Fantastic.”

Tifa helped Hope sit up, her hands protective on his shoulders. Bartz knelt by her and Hope felt a curative spell wash over his injury. But he kept watching Noel; the Guardian seemed to avoid looking him, his eyes landing everywhere but on Hope’s own.

Kain stepped in Hope’s line of vision. “Guardian. What is the meaning of this? What has happened here?”

“Chaos happened,” Noel said. Hope leaned forward, looking around Kain’s legs. Noel’s face was cold, almost indifferent. “Welcome to the dying world you left behind.” He smiled again and an irrational animosity surged inside Hope toward that harsh slash on Noel’s face.

“Noel,” Hope began, though his voice cracked. Noel’s eyes flicked to him, lips pressing shut. “You’ve been here—” He broke off into a cough.

Bartz pinched his arm. “Hey, take it easy… I’m not done yet.” The mime glared up at Noel. “Why’d you attack us like that?”

Noel ignored him. “There’s nothing here,” he addressed Kain. “You won’t have much time before Chaos recovers and you die. Spend it as you will.” He turned away.

“Wait,” Squall held out a hand to stop him. “We still have questions.”

Noel didn’t say anything, side-eyeing him with a remote stare. Squall frowned, but lowered his arm, allowing Noel to pass. Mogki squeezed Hope’s hand, silently begging for help, but Hope could only uselessly watch Noel walk away. With a soft chirp, the moogling fluttered up and followed after the Guardian, casting backward glances at the group.

Tifa helped Hope up. “Who was that? He has the mark of Chaos.”

“He was kinda our friend before,” Bartz said, moving on to heal Squall. He scowled at the wounds the mercenary bore, minor though they were. “He helped Hope a lot when he wasn’t stalking him.”

“He’s from my homeworld,” Hope continued softly, trying to rub away the feel of Noel’s hands around his neck. “And he’s been fighting here since everyone left…”

Kain folded his arms over his chest. “You must not hold yourself accountable for events which transpired outside your control.”

Hope didn’t say anything, watching the dark hallway pensively.

“What’s the game plan now?” Squall asked, carefully prying Bartz’s healing touch off him. “Don’t think Cosmos is here.”

“And the only person who seems to know what’s going on just left us in the dust,” Tifa added.

Kain gazed at Hope. The scientist continued to stare distractedly at where Noel had left. “I think it will be best to rest here for the evening. Perhaps new light will be shed with the arrival of morn.”

“Whatever morning is in this place,” Squall muttered.

 

  
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Hope couldn’t sleep.

After a couple hours of tossing and turning, he finally sat up, working the cricks out of his back. He was physically tired, but his mind wouldn’t stop turning its gears and worries raced circles through his head.

Bartz, Tifa, and Squall were sprawled nearby, bodies moving gently with the rise and fall of sleep. Hope envied them.

He stood, approaching Kain. The dragoon was on watch, sitting on a broken foundation of a pillar by the hallway exit, his lance cradled against his body.

The dragoon acknowledged Hope’s company with a nod of his head. The scientist sat down by him, smoothing out his uniform. Noel’s blood was brown on the white and his fingers lingered over the stain.

“I have to go find him,” Hope said quietly after several moments. “I can’t leave him like that.”

“No, you cannot,” Kain said. “Nor do I believe he can leave you.” At Hope’s questioning glance, he nodded toward the hallway. “His moogle has been lingering there for several hours.”

Hope abruptly stood, peering into the darkness. “Where?” But even has he asked, he could see the ghostly shadow of a pompom peeking over fallen debris. He half-started forward before stopping. Noel’s bitter smile tore at him.

Kain sensed his hesitation. “You are the best person to approach him in this state. He will not listen to the rest of us.”

Hope didn’t know how to tell Kain that he knew he was the one that put Noel there. That Hope had been so scared of how weak he was and how people had gotten hurt because of him—how Noel had gotten hurt—that he ran away and left Noel to carry the burden of two. If he hadn’t left, he may have still been here to help Noel in this fight, instead of leaving the Guardian alone.

Hope stared down the hallway. He had a promise, a wish. The strength he built for himself was through his friends—and Noel had helped with that too, even if Hope hadn’t remembered. What good was that strength if he couldn’t help his friends who needed it?

“I’ll be back,” Hope said, resolute. “And I’ll bring Noel with me.”

“Hm,” Kain said, but his faint smile was satisfied with Hope’s answer.

 

  
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The heels of Hope’s boots were like gunshots in his ears, though he was trying to be especially quiet. He passed by the snoozing moogling without pause; there was no point in waking it. The grey light slanted through the filmy air as he passed through the ruinous gates, the sea’s sleepy sibilation rolling around him.

He looked around. Where was Noel? Mogki would never stray far from the Guardian. Was he waiting back inside?

But he glanced up and there was Noel, perched atop one of the tumbled arches, face turned to the blank sky.

Hope inhaled deeply, letting it out slowly. He had extensive experience in speaking before a crowd, but now he had no idea what to say to a single person. What could he say?

Steeling himself, Hope rested a hand on the arch, glancing up. He knew Noel was aware he was here. “You can hide up there if you like,” he finally called, keeping his voice light, “but I learned how to shout fairly well working with interns. It might be a little awkward to converse like this, but if that’s how you want to do it...”

“I’m not hiding,” Noel said evenly. He pushed himself off and landed smoothly several feet from Hope. The Guardian now moved with an apex predator’s grace; Hope was uncomfortably reminded of how quickly Noel had ambushed and decimated their group earlier. If Noel wanted to attack him now, Hope wasn’t sure if he could stop him. “If I was hiding, you wouldn’t be able to find me.”

“Nonsense.” Hope tried to keep his light tone, but failed miserably. “We always found each other. Rather,” he added quickly, “that’s just how it works here...”

Noel met his gaze with hollow eyes and said nothing.

It was so strange to see him like that. Just three days before, they were all laughing and smiling.

And thirteen years earlier…

Hope’s memories were a shuffle of timelines, trying to reconcile the Noel he had met when he was fourteen with the Noel he met ten years later. His teenaged self had harbored an infatuation for the Guardian and his adult self admired the hunter’s drive and optimism. Or was it that his teenaged self admired the Guardian’s strength and confidence and his adult self was infatuated by the hunter’s straightforward charm? His feelings from these two viewpoints were all tangled together, tied neatly with guilt.

But for Noel, time had passed differently. Hope had no idea what happened in the intervening time or even how long it had been. Noel still looked eighteen, like the first day that they had ever met—in either set of Hope’s memories—but his eyes held an age which seemed beyond count.

Hope didn’t know what to do.

“When was the last time you saw me?” Noel’s words were low.

“... three days ago. You and Serah departed from Academia through a Time Gate. 400 AF.”

Noel’s eyes grew distant, struggling to remember. “... right. The start of it.” He looked out to the sea. “Have you seen Serah since then?”

Hope shook his head. “No word from either of you. I did encounter Snow… “ He trailed off, a hand absently rubbing where he had been shot.

“Then she’s lost too…”

Guilt overwhelmed Hope; without thinking, he stepped forward and took Noel’s hands in his own. “I’m sorry.” He brought them close to his chest, bowing his head. “I’m so sorry.”

Noel’s arms twitched. “What for?”

Hope squeezed his hands. “For making you do this. For leaving you alone and asking you to carry the burden.”

“You remember me. From your time in this dream.”

Hope nodded.

“Everything?”

Hope nodded again, running his thumbs along the back of Noel’s hands. It embarrassed him to think of the puppy love he once bore for Noel; he wondered how much of it had spilled out from his suppressed memories to affect him when he met Noel years later on their homeworld. The unease, anxiety, admiration, familiarity—all of it stemmed from a young crush.

But regardless of the source, he sincerely cared for Noel; he couldn’t forgive himself for hurting Noel like this, even unintentionally.

“So you really think that it’s your fault?” Noel asked quietly.

“I should’ve stayed with you.”

“Why?”

Hope stared at him. Noel’s gaze was impassive and it was so strange to see him like that, not when Noel was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. Hope wanted Noel’s optimistic smiles and laughter and he hated himself for feeling so selfish.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” the Guardian continued. “I wasn’t able to do what you asked.” Noel twisted his hands free, touching fingertips to his chest and drawing forth a crystal star.

Hope recognized it. It was in the shape of his eidolith, the one granted to him as a l’Cie. But it was his crystal, the one he created from himself, formed by the deepest wish he had within the chaos of his heart. It no longer shined with any light, its facets fogged and unclear; it lay in Noel’s hand like a dead bird.

“I had a wish. I wanted to save my future and save everyone, all those people I loved.” Noel’s fingers closed over the stone, fist white-knuckled.

“But Hope, I can’t remember their faces. I can’t see her at all. I can’t hear her voice. If I passed by Yeul… would I even know her? And Serah… she’s just a shadow. Sometimes I feel like I can touch her, but there’s nothing there… Does this wish mean anything now?”

Hope never felt so useless. “You’ll get home, Noel. They remember you and when you see them, I know you’ll remember them too.”

“I think as long as they’re happy, it wouldn’t matter. I can’t remember their faces but I know I still love them. That’s all I have left.” Noel held out the dead star, hand trembling. “I’m not strong, Hope. I couldn’t protect anything. I haven’t ever been able to.”

Slowly, Hope took the crystal. It was heavy like lead. He ran his fingers over its facets, as if he could read its story through its ridges.

“Even now, you’re—you people are here… how can I protect you? All the others are dead. This is just a prison until execution. There’s nothing but death.”

Hope shook his head fiercely. “There isn’t just death because we’re here. I’m here. Remember what I told you? It’s not just you—we’re all standing by you. We’ll protect each other.” He offered a tentative smile which Noel did not return.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Noel said. “I thought—”

Hope held up a hand to stop the apology. “I understand. It’s fine. It was like when we fought—”

Suddenly Noel stepped in close, rough fingers cupping the nape of Hope’s neck and tangling in the hairs there. Without any pretense, the Guardian pressed his forehead against his, long lashes resting on his cheeks. Hope swallowed his words, watching Noel’s face smooth into tranquility.

( _How long has it been since he’s had human contact? Noel, who feared being alone…_ ) Hope closed his eyes, settling his hands on Noel’s arms and squeezing them in solidarity. Guilt haunted him, but he couldn’t let that hinder him—apologies simply weren’t enough. He had to amend his error, to help Noel escape from this nightmare.

When Noel pulled away, he looked tired, his endless struggle in this otherworld a long novel on his face. Hope wanted to scrub away those words, to forbid them from ever touching the Guardian.

“Here.” He pressed the crystal back into Noel’s palm, closing his fingers over it. “I know you don’t believe hope is lost. You wouldn’t have kept fighting otherwise, looking for a miracle.”

Noel lowered his eyes to the crystal. “What else could I do…? I can’t just give up and die...”

Hope brushed hair and beaded feathers from Noel’s face. “You’re not alone any more. We’ll create that miracle—together. I’m serious.”

Noel gazed at him for a long moment. “... I know.” And while he didn’t smile, the tired lines softened away into a specter of that confident Noel Hope had believed in thirteen years ago.

 

  
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“So the cycles continued, even after we had won,” Squall said, arms folded tight over his chest.

They were all seated upon the central dais. Hope had brought Noel back to the group, roused by Kain. The Guardian had been withdrawn, but Hope suspected it was due to shame at having attacked people he considered his friends. Indeed, both Bartz and Squall had regarded him with some suspicion, but when Tifa had introduced herself without fear, the tension had released from Noel’s shoulders and the mood had lifted.

“No way!” Bartz leaned forward on his hands, half rising from his seat. “That’s cheating, isn’t it?”

“We never really knew the rules in the first place,” Squall reminded him, pushing him back down.

“Chaos sacrificed his memories to go through purification,” Noel explained. Mogki nodded in agreement from his perch on Noel’s shoulder. “This started another cycle. But in his death, all the chaos he had gathered within him was released, altering the world.”

“Did he do it for revenge?” Tifa asked from where she was seated on the other side of Hope.

“I… don’t know.” Noel’s face tightened; Hope could tell there was something Noel wasn’t saying. “But it doesn’t matter. Since then, he’s won every cycle, but the power he receives only pushes him further into madness, fueled by the unfettered chaos. His humanity is gone. He’s killed everyone—even his own warriors—so I’m the only one left.”

“How many times has he killed you?” Hope was almost afraid to ask.

“I lost count.” Noel’s bitter smile was brief. “I still haven’t gotten used to it.”

Hope twisted his hands together in guilt.

“I give as good as I take,” Noel added, as if to reassure him. “That’s why we have a little respite. It’ll take him some days to recover.”

“You have gotten stronger,” Kain noted.

“Far stronger,” and there was no cockiness in Noel’s voice—he was stating a fact. He lifted his chin in challenge to Kain’s unspoken question. “I’m not afraid of my power any more.”

“Hm. So it would seem.”

Bartz rubbed his chin. “Does that mean over time, you could’ve eventually beaten Chaos?”

Hope glared daggers at the mime, drawing himself up. A lesser man would’ve fried underneath that withering glare. “We’re not sacrificing Noel.”

[That’s right, kupo!] Mogki puffed out, wings fluttering in scorn. [Choco-po boy should sacrifice himself!]

“Well, he’s kinda immortal, isn’t he? Isn’t that his gimmick?”

“Did you not hear me,” Hope barked in a clipped, hard tone, “or are those ears just for show? The matter is not up for debate. End of discussion—or do I need to use smaller words?”

“Yiiikes, sorry.” Bartz waved his hands. “I was just thinking out loud... Man, you got scarier with age.”

Satisfied, Hope turned to the others. “So what should we…” He trailed off, acutely aware of everyone staring at him. A faint amused-yet-horrified expression ghosted over Noel’s facade and that made the blood rush to Hope’s face. “Wh-what?”

Tifa hid a smile behind a hand. “So you’re one of those types. Sugar outside but spicy inside?”

“Oh Tifa, he used to be so cute,” Bartz lamented. “The years haven’t treated him well.”

“What are you talking about?” Hope frowned at them and Bartz grinned, hiding behind Squall in playful fear.

Squall ignored the mime clinging to him. “I think we can all agree we were summoned here by someone to help Noel. There’s no point in him going it alone.”

“Where is Cosmos?” Kain asked Noel.

The Guardian’s gaze flicked from Hope to Kain. “Not here,” he replied.

“Surely not dead?”

Noel shook his head. “The war would’ve ended. She’s… not here. That’s all I can say.”

“So why have you been protecting Sanctuary?” Hope asked.

Noel met his eyes briefly before dropping to his hands. “It didn’t feel right… to let Chaos desecrate this place. And it was easier to wait for him here than to hunt for him all over the world.”

“In the end,” Kain said, “if we desire to stop this war, we must defeat Chaos.”

“Even Noel can’t take Chaos head on. I don’t know if we could either,” Squall said.

“And it took all of us with our crystals to even beat Chaos before,” Bartz added. “But without Cosmos, we don’t have our crystals.”

Hope stood up, pacing in thought. “No, we always had crystals. All Cosmos did was act as a catalyst to allow the crystals to obtain a physical presence so we could utilize them. But everyone here has already received that catalyst.”

Tifa pointed at herself and Kain. “Kain and I never got crystals.”

“But you did receive her power to create one.” Hope stopped, hitting a fist into his palm. “If everyone could recover their crystals, that should aid us greatly.”

Squall frowned. “How do you know all this about the crystals? You left the cycles before Cosmos told us about them.”

“I’m the one who assisted Cosmos with her plan.”

Kain straightened, lavender eyes rounding slightly with surprise. “You?”

Hope nodded. “I guess you could say mine was the prototype.” He glanced sidelong at Noel; the Guardian was staring off to the side. “I had an other I could safely fight. Cosmos summoned me into the conflict for that reason.” Hope swallowed. “I wasn’t someone important to him, but still familiar enough that he wouldn’t harm me. She felt she could play on his sympathies to spur him into aiding her.”

Noel’s shoulders twitched.

Kain too glanced at Noel. “I see. Seems rather cruel, but I suppose the end justified the means.”

“I also had my own reasons for helping her,” Hope added quietly. ”She wasn’t the only cruel one.”

Noel closed his eyes briefly, hands curling into fists.

“So you think we can get our crystals again?” Bartz asked.

“Yes,” Hope answered. “Crystals are just the solidified chaos that’s already in our hearts. That’s why we have to awaken them. And they never disappear as long as we have our passion as human beings.”

Bartz counted on his fingers. “But there’s only six of us…”

“Four,” Noel corrected, turning his gaze back to the group. “I can’t create a crystal since I’m with Chaos. I never received the Goddess’ blessing.”

“And mine is only a vessel,” Hope said. “I can’t wield it.”

“So… four crystals. When it took ten last time.”

“Thirteen,” Noel corrected again.

“What?”

“There were thirteen crystals.”

Bartz blinked, recounting. “But there were ten of us.”

“I had the other three.”

“But you just said you can’t create a crystal…” Hope could almost see the steam rising from Bartz’s head as the mime struggled to understand.

“Don’t think too hard on it,” Noel told him, a bit sympathetically. “Just know I had the other three and I was there, when you all defeated Chaos.”

“This settles it; we can get the other nine crystals.” A brilliant smile lit up Hope’s face; the solution was in their hands.

“You mean like before… With their wishes.” Noel exhaled softly.

Eagerly, Hope nodded, kneeling down beside Noel. “With chaos tainting the land, it’ll amplify the residual memories in the dimensional clashes.” He touched Noel’s arm, head bent close in his excitement. “I’m positive. It might be enough for my crystal to hear their wishes.”

“You’re gambling a lot on paper theories.” But Noel didn’t look as skeptical as he sounded.

“I make the impossible possible, Noel. Haven’t you learned that yet?” Hope couldn’t help flashing a cocky grin. This was the first time he felt so optimistic since arriving back in this otherworld.

Mogki raised a tiny fist. [That’s right, Ho-po!]

“Care to explain it to us laymen here?” Squall asked.

“Oh yes, my apologies.” Hope turned to the others, eyes bright. “As I mentioned, my crystal is a vessel. It doesn’t generate power from within, but pulls from without. It absorbs chaos—in the form of a person’s most heartfelt wish—to grant its bearer strength.”

“So like a magic genie?” Bartz asked.

“That’s oversimplifying it. We’re not talking about literal wishes; rather, what we call a ‘wish’ is actually a metaphysical concept shaped by a person’s inner chaos—”

“Stop!” Bartz held up a hand. “Stop. I don’t get it and I’m not going to get it, so don’t bother explaining.”

“Very well.” Hope scratched a cheek almost sheepishly. “The crux of the matter is a side effect it has—it can create its own satellite crystal if one’s released chaos was potent enough. Using my crystal, we can simulate the other nine for the warriors not present.”

Noel drummed his fingers on an arm. “If what you’re theorizing is true, then if we visited the dimensional clashes of everyone’s homeworlds, we can recover the crystals.” He paused. “The problem will be time. Chaos will return in about a week and I can’t protect you all. He will hunt down any living warrior relentlessly.”

“While I don’t relish the thought, if we died, we’d just have to get purified and start over,” Squall said.

A slow realization crawled over Hope. Memories were the price of purification, but they arrived here with all memories intact...

“But there is no purification… is there?” Hope suddenly understood why Noel had been miserable about protecting everyone. “It’s not even about failing purification. It’s just… absent altogether.”

“Exactly.” Noel’s face was grim. “Purification and cycle rebirth were granted by an observing entity named Shinryu. But he’s been absorbed by Chaos. So now if you die, you’re lost in the Void. Your existence is wiped out on your homeworld. You become nothing—and nothing is all that everyone will remember about you.”

“Then we just have to get our crystals before then,” Tifa said. “If we split up, we can probably recover them faster.”

“I dunno if it’s a good idea for us to be roaming around alone,” Bartz objected. “Especially with that whole perma-death-and-you-stop-being thing.”

“Pairs?” Hope suggested. “Bartz and I have healing abilities if something were to happen.”

“As do I,” Kain said. “Though minor.”

Tifa leaned over, rapping a fist on the dragoon’s chestplate. “Then I’ll go with you. We both didn’t have crystals before so we can figure out how to get ours together. It’ll be like old times.”

“Hm.” A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. “The pleasure is mine.”

“Then I have Squall,” Bartz said, latching onto the older man. Squall grunted under the weight. “He and I already got ours once so it should be a cinch to get them again.”

Hope smiled shyly at Noel. “It appears we’re the crystal-less team.”

“Will you two be able to find nine crystals that quickly?” Bartz asked. “This place is huge.”

Noel was unconcerned. “I have ways of travelling that aren’t accessible to you. Don’t worry about us.”

“Man, the only thing I’m worried about you two is when you’re gonna—” Squall clamped a hand over the mime’s mouth.

“You still haven’t learned tact.”

Bartz pulled his hand down indignantly. “Hey. Just because you’re older than me now doesn’t mean you can lord it over me.”

“Then it is settled,” Kain said. “We meet back here in five days time.”

Leaning forward, Tifa held out a hand. “All right, everyone. Let’s do this. We can end this nightmare and get back home.”

Bartz slapped his hand atop hers with a lopsided grin. “Yup! Though it’s still pretty awesome I get to go on an adventure with you all again.”

Squall shook his head, but he followed suit. “You’d think at some point the adventure would end.”

“What?” Bartz looked scandalized. “Get outta here.”

Hope laughed, pressing his palm down onto the pile. “I know we can do this.” He smiled at Noel.

Noel’s face was neutral, but when he rested his hand on Hope’s, his fingers curled between Hope’s own. “Don’t die, everyone.”

“Five days.” Kain placed his hand with the others’ and Mogki plopped on top of the stack with a warble. “So begins our gambit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a slower chapter to pull in exposition. But Noel's back. \o/
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading. ♥


	8. act ii. cycle xx. 2

**act ii. cycle xx. 2.**

The others departed on their quests for their crystals, leaving Hope, Noel, and Mogki alone before the empty Sanctuary. Hope watched the backs of Tifa and Kain quickly disappear down the ridge across the clamoring sea.

Only five days to gather all the crystals before Chaos awakened again. It didn’t seem like much.

“Come on,” Noel said and Hope turned to him. Mogki beckoned to Hope from Noel’s shoulder.

The Guardian held out a hand to the side and dark wisps gathered. The air beside him shimmered with heat, before the darkness ripped the space open. Black and golden light spilled from the yawning wound.

Hope’s eyes widened. “A spacetime distortion?”

Noel nodded. “Stay close to me. Once inside it’s easy to lose your way.”

“Noel,” Hope said, suddenly remembering. “These powers—you didn’t have them before in Academia, did you?”

“No.”

“But you had them before you arrived here.”

Noel looked at him. “Yes.” His voice was terse. He obviously didn’t want to talk about this, but Hope needed some answers. “I killed Caius and inherited his powers.”

Rubbing a temple, Hope could recall conversations that had danced around this subject. Noel had said he was born to kill someone—and that was how he gained his immortality. “Would that alter the timeline?”

“Possibly,” Noel admitted. “Since Caius is responsible for the paradoxes.”

Hope frowned. Of course, he wouldn’t know if anything had changed, since a change in the timeline would alter the memories of those affected, but nothing had seemed different on their homeworld. Noel and Serah had left together to continue their work to find Light and save the future. “When did you arrive here?”

“Sometime after Serah and I left Academia—400AF.”

“So my time only just caught up with yours…” That would explain why it still felt like there was a danger to the stability of the timeline. Noel must have killed Caius after he and Serah had left Academia. Hope chewed on his lower lip. But there seemed to be something important he was missing… Noel killed Caius—altering the timeline… This would… protect the future?

And if the future changed...

Fingers touched his palm, startling Hope out of his thoughts. “We need to go.”

“Y-yes, of course.”

Golden light swarmed over Noel’s body as he stepped into the distortion, blending him out of sight. Hurriedly Hope followed; the light felt tangible, like lukewarm water, and he held his breath instinctively as he crossed inside.

Within, light and shadow existed simultaneously; Hope was unable to tell them apart and he could feel his mental processes breaking under the strain. Noel’s voice floated somewhere from his left and then from his right. He shut his eyes against the cacophony of the senses, turning his head about to locate the sound.

A hand snagged his and then Noel’s voice was in his ear. “Stay close,” and the Guardian led him further in. Hope staggered blindly after him. There was nothing solid under his feet, but they walked as if a road was there. Hope made the mistake of opening his eyes and vertigo hit him hard as gold and black spiraled into infinity below them.

Gasping, he snapped his eyes shut once more, clinging to Noel’s hand like a lifeline.

When Noel finally dragged him out of the distortion, Hope stumbled onto his hands and knees in relief, pressing his forehead to the ground to reorient himself with reality. Mogki plopped onto his shoulder, patting his head in comfort.

Noel’s boots crunched on loose rocks as he crouched beside him. “You all right?”

Hope nodded, squinting with one eye up at the Guardian. “Does it get easier?”

“For you?” Noel considered it. “Probably not. Interdimensional travel can only really be utilized by those with great chaotic power.”

[Or by moogles!]

Hope hung his head in misery. “Lucky me.” He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. “Where are we?”

A barren wasteland surrounded them, filled with sweeping, wind carved rock formations and jagged spires reaching for flat skies. Fine grains of white sand were thrown in piles against the sculptured sentinels, like powdered snow.

Ahead, a massive structure jutted out of the ground at a wild angle, where it had crashed some unknown time ago. The grey light leeched all color from it, its metal dull and rusted.

“The dimensional clashes were affected by the release of chaos,” Noel said, staring up at the ruins of what had once been a fortress in the sky. Mogki crawled onto his shoulder, following his gaze. “I’m not sure how much of it may have spilled into the homeworlds, but the overall result was instability. Some clashes compensated by merging with this place.”

“You visited all of them?”

“I was looking for a way out.” Noel started forward.

Biting his lip, Hope quickly followed, as if physically closing the distance between them would draw Noel out of the shell he wrapped himself in. “Do you know why you were left behind? My crystal should’ve returned you home, like the others.”

“Maybe your crystal thought I still had something I had to do here.”

Hope stopped suddenly, the accusation piercing him through.

Realizing what he had said, Noel stopped too. His face twisted in self-chastisement and he looked away. “Or… maybe it was because Shinryu, not Chaos or the Goddess, had summoned me here so I don’t get to go back when the war is ended. Who knows? Does it matter why?”

Hope was silent, eyes downcast.

“... I…” Noel walked forward a few steps before halting again, the line of his back bent. “Don’t blame yourself.”

A small wry smile wobbled across Hope’s face. “It’s hard not to.”

Noel’s shoulders lifted in a silent sigh. “How much longer are you going to regret the past?” He started walking again, not looking back. “I’ve realized that people spend so much time regretting the past that they let the future burn.”

“I don’t—I don’t regret it!” Hope chased after him. “I did what I had to do.”

“If you believe that, then stop blaming yourself.” Noel’s face softened as he glanced at the scientist. “I don’t blame you, so stop being hard on yourself.” Mogki nodded sagely in agreement.

Even though Noel said that, Hope could still feel the distance between them. He knew Noel never lied, but Hope couldn’t deny this distance either. Maybe Noel didn’t blame him, but maybe Noel didn’t forgive him either.

Hope wanted to reach out across that distance, to heal the gap between them. He only had to reach out… But he didn’t have the courage. Not yet.

 

  
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Inside, the fortress was as barren as without. The architecture reminded Hope sharply of his homeworld, or perhaps more accurately, of the lost technology on Gran Pulse, with its rust-eaten, sand-crusted automata and abandoned culture.

To his surprise, there were no manikins wandering or monsters nesting; Noel explained that the concentration of chaotic energy was too unstable for either to be comfortable. Hope could feel it, an unseen oppression pressing down on his body. He trailed after Noel through winding corridors, a headache balling inside his skull. Black snakes coiled around Noel’s body; the chaos was drawn to him and when he glanced back to make sure Hope was following, his eyes were very bright.

Hope didn’t think Noel even realized the synergy he was unconsciously forming with the localized chaos. Once again he was reminded of the extent of Noel’s entrapment in this otherworld and he clenched his fists, forcing himself to keep up.

 

  
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“So if I create this crystal, it’ll help Noel?” Hope nervously rocked on his heels before the Goddess, hands clasped self-consciously behind his back. The thin layer of water saturating the floor of the Goddess’ Rest splished under his shoes and he forced himself to stay still.

“If that is your wish.” She looked at him kindly, her eyes the blue-silver of clean water. She was very beautiful and it made Hope so very shy. “The crystal will return him home.”

“If we win.”

“Yes, if we triumph.”

Hope’s fingers knotted together. “I want to help him. I-I mean… he said… he said that he’s the last person alive and… I made a promise…” He trailed off. “But I’m scared,” he whispered.

Cosmos’ slim white arms reached out, cradling Hope’s face between gentle hands. “If you believe in him, then there is nothing to fear.”

 

  
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It was odd seeing his crystal at work.

He knew his eidolith well; the numerous times he had summoned it to release Alexander during his tenure as a l’Cie made it almost ordinary. His crystal appeared the same, but it felt different; the energy sleeping in it was not the power of a Goddess, but the chaos of humanity.

It was also odd seeing it in Noel’s hands, even though he had created it for that purpose. Only Noel had the strength of chaos to control it, to act as a conduit between heart and crystal. This was part of Cosmos’ gambit: as her power waned, she would not be able to summon new warriors to take up the standard. Someone else had to bear the fallen’s crystals.

She used Hope because of his connection to Noel and through him she used Noel because of his potential.

And it had worked, but something unexpected had happened. So when everyone returned to their homes, even those lost to the Void like Hope or Chaos’ own minions, Noel had remained behind to continue fighting in a new war. Hope didn’t know why, but if it truly had been because of his crystal, then the Goddess had lied to him.

The crystal pulsated with a faint smudge of green as Noel witnessed the wish of a specter made of chaos. Noel cradled it gently, almost reverently, and Hope remembered Noel’s trembling hands when he admitted he had let the crystal die. It was a symbol of Hope’s trust in Noel, and perhaps that was why Noel held it so very carefully.

But Hope knew the crystal would never die. Even when its light was lost, it would always endure, because of the selfish wish which had shaped it.

 

  
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The second area they visited was a field of brown roses and brambles, thorny vines tangling over the ruins of what was once a great castle. Empty mountains bordered all around them, teeth gnawing at the heavens. Chaos swept over the dying flora with an almost visible wind. Hope staggered against Noel, bracing himself against the Guardian. His head pounded.

Noel’s breaths were short; his hand was pressed to his chest, a red light throbbing through his fingers. “The chaos here is very strong.”

[Mogki feels fine.] The moogling tilted its head at the two.

“It’s not good manners to gloat,” Hope told it, rubbing his temples. “Let’s get this over with and quickly.”

Noel agreed, but the dimensional clash was bigger than expected; among the castle ruins was a stairway leading deep underground. Hope’s tiny ball of magic light barely lit the dim, chaos misted passages of the subterranean level feeding further into the bowels of the earth.

They must’ve been there for hours before they met the specter of a warrior bearing many weapons and received his wish. Hope felt completely drained when they finally resurfaced and he was not eager to repeat the experience. He wasn’t sure he could deal with another dimensional skip and another trek through chaos-infested haunts so soon after this one.

Noel seemed affected as well; while he suffered only mild discomfort, his mood had become inexplicably grim, his eyes glinting with an unfamiliar light. He barely talked the entire journey and Hope was again acutely aware of the distance between them.

“Let’s take a break,” Hope suggested as they passed through the dead field of roses and Noel stared at him for a long moment before agreeing.

Outside of the clash, the levels of chaos weren’t as concentrated, and in the shadow of a jutting crevice, they sat down with some relief. Already Hope could feel the tightness melting from his body and Noel sighed beside him, stretching his long legs.

“You should rest,” Hope said. The tired lines had etched themselves onto Noel’s face again. Mogki crawled from Noel’s shoulder to his with an agreeing chirp. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?”

“And what about you?” Noel asked archly.

Hope smiled wryly. “I got a little in. Plus, I keep some fairly erratic hours.”

“So do I.”

“You may be immortal but your body isn’t,” Hope said, frowning as he looked Noel over critically.

“I don’t sleep much these days.” Noel shrugged. “When I sleep, I sometimes have trouble telling my dreams from reality. Honestly, I’m still not sure if you’re real. I’m worried if I close my eyes, you’ll just disappear.”

Hope straightened, lips parting in realization. Was this why Noel was so remote? He was afraid that this was just some illusion? ( _He’s protecting himself from getting hurt again…_ )

It was an impulsive, bold act, his frustration with Noel’s distance bolstering his courage. Without a word, Hope pulled firmly at the Guardian, urging him to lie down with his head in Hope’s lap. Noel yelped in surprise, struggling to sit up, but then Hope gently covered his eyes with an ungloved hand.

“Just sleep,” he told the Guardian. “I’ll be here when you wake. Then you’ll know this is real.”

Noel’s long lashes tickled like butterfly wings against his palm, his body taut. His lips were pressed into a thin line and Hope wondered if he had done the wrong thing. But gradually the tension eased from Noel’s limbs and the Guardian exhaled a long, soft breath. Butterfly wings fluttered a final time and the ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Noel’s mouth.

“You really like winning your arguments.”

“Only when I’m correct.” Hope lifted his hand and brushed Noel’s bangs from his closed eyes. “Which is always.”

It was brief, but Noel laughed, a breathy chuckle that released so many worries Hope didn’t even know he had.

“I’ll be here, Noel. I won’t leave you alone again.”

 

  
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Noel decided that they’d travel overland to the next dimensional clash since it wasn’t that far. The rest did him a lot of good, his mood lighter than it had been since Hope had returned to the otherworld. He still didn’t quite smile and laugh as much as before, but his old garrulous charm resurfaced far more often, and Hope did everything he could to encourage it.

So the scientist talked about the most inane things to engage Noel, dropping the meticulous, reserved persona he had carefully crafted during his tenure with the Academy. It had been a long time since he felt he could be so open about his thoughts, where his every move was not being watched or analyzed by an overly invested public. Hope had been alone too, in a far different way, isolated on a pedestal above the world; but here with Noel, he was just someone trying to make a precious friend feel better.

And Noel was precious to him; every time Noel joked or smiled at Hope’s trivial topics, Hope’s heart would quicken, a tiny surge of triumph thrilling down his spine. Hope missed the lively, expressive Noel he once knew, the Noel who was precious to Hope in ways that he wasn’t sure he wanted to confront.

 

  
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“You sure we can’t fight them?” Noel whispered as they crouched together behind a rock, while a pair of monstrous abominations ambled past without any concern for the insects at their feet.

Hope stared at him as if he were mad. “Positive,” he hissed.

“I wonder what they taste like,” Noel murmured regretfully, watching the monsters lumber over the barren flats.

Hope definitely didn’t want to find out.

Regardless, Noel led them adeptly past most encounters in a land teeming with fantastic monsters and crystal automations, avoiding well-worn game trails and exposed areas. They were racing against time, so they moved swiftly and avoided unnecessary battles.

While Hope wasn’t as fragile as in his youth, he still had a hard time keeping pace with Noel’s tireless endurance and agility. Eventually he lost sight of Noel as they hiked through a mountain thicket, the Guardian melting into a grove of trees.

Hope’s sixth sense gave him a split second warning before the attack; the initial swipe screeched loud against his hastily erected barrier as he flinched, feet sliding out from under him.

He fell hard onto his back and the monster leapt at him, all teeth and claws and blinding dust.

“Hope!” He could hear Noel running back, crashing through dense growth.

Hope pressed his palms flat against the earth; the ground shuddered and spires of rock thrust out from either side of him, angling together to catch the beast in midair and pinning it between their stony talons. It writhed against the earth’s grip, a six-legged canoid with froth dripping from its jagged maw. A long leg slashed desperately at Hope below, and the scientist scrambled back as water condensed and froze into millions of needles orbiting the flailing beast. They all flipped as one and stabbed into the creature, tearing it to shreds, flesh and blood splattering to the ground.

With a relieved sigh, Hope sat up and brushed dirt from his hair. Noel was staring at him from the other side of the monster’s mutilated corpse, taken aback by Hope’s almost clinical kill. Hope suppressed a smile at the Guardian’s almost comical, bug-eyed expression.

“You’ve really improved,” Noel finally said, toeing a quivering chunk of muscle. Mogki nodded in awed agreement.

Hope flashed him a self-disparaging smile, getting to his feet. “I’ve received some expert tips from a few people.” He gave the dripping corpse a wide berth as he rejoined the Guardian. “Not to mention my brand is in the last stage of development. You could say I’ve unlocked my full potential.”

“Oh, really?” Noel folded his arms over his chest, eyeing the scientist. “We should have a rematch sometime. I’m curious how you’d do against me now.”

“What, so you can punch me in the face again?” Hope rolled his eyes over his shoulder, picking a path through the undergrowth. It was easy since Noel had charged through it in his hurry to rescue Hope.

“You hit me a lot harder,” Noel protested, trailing.

Hope dismissed that with a wave, playing up an air of superiority. “Fine. What do I get when I beat you? I need some incentive here.”

“ _When_ you beat me?”

“Let’s be frank, Noel,” Hope began archly, turning to slowly look the Guardian up and down. He was enjoying himself, the exchange reminding him of their old banter. Noel actually flushed under Hope’s scrutiny, a rarity which sent Hope’s heart singing. “This is a foregone conclusion. I defeated you once, and I’ll trounce you again.”

Noel gaped at him for a long moment. Hope raised a haughty brow in return.

It was slow—a mere twitch at first—the corners of Noel’s mouth lifting before his lips parted to flash teeth. His shoulders shook with silent laughter and then soft chuckles escaped him. His eyes crinkled, violet flashing with affection. “Hope, I really do love you.” It was said offhandedly, between laughs, but there was no doubt about its sincerity.

Hope abruptly dropped the imperious act, an undignified sound escaping him.

“What?” Noel asked, smiling at Hope’s dumbfounded expression. “Is that strange?”

“N-no,” Hope said hastily. He could feel heat flooding his face, and he struggled to keep his composure. “You’re the type to love freely. It’d be strange if I was excluded.” Noel came from a time where there weren’t many people, so he was not shy about his fondness for his friends. Hope had witnessed this a few times and had even been on the end of it.

“You think it’s strange,” Noel said, amused. “I mean it though.” His smile faded into something gentle but wistful, and Hope had a hard time avoiding just how Noel meant it. “Do you know what my last memory of you was?”

Bowing his head, Hope really didn’t want to remember that first bumbling kiss. “A-about that—”

“You said you believed in me.”

Hope’s head shot up and he quickly ducked down again. “Oh… yes…”

“It had been a long time since anyone told me that.” Noel reached up to fondle Mogki’s ears. The moogling purred, nuzzling his cheek. “Your faith was misplaced, but I still appreciated it.”

“Noel… I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to irritate me if you keep apologizing.” Noel laughed ruefully, patting Mogki’s head a final time. “But I’ll admit, I was pretty angry when I found out what you did.”

Hope clasped his hands tightly behind his back, eyes locked on the weeds at his feet. “I shouldn’t have—”

“I was angry because I knew why you did it.” Noel raised Hope’s chin with the crook of a finger. “But I wouldn’t take back any of the time we spent together. Cause I love you, even if you think it’s strange.”

It wasn’t fair that Hope, an experienced orator, a former leader of the de facto government of a new world, was at such a loss for words. It wasn’t fair that Noel could easily make his gift for speech disappear, leaving him only with stutters and silences. His mind raced over clauses, verbs, predicates, nouns, but the pieces were ill-fitted and reflected nothing of what he wanted to say.

[Mogki loves Ho-po too!] The moogling waved its arms merrily. [Does Ho-po love Mogki and Noel?]

Hope’s jumbled thoughts suddenly collapsed on themselves, falling away and leaving only a dark solace. It was an absurdly silly question with an absurdly obvious answer.

Lips touched his temple; he raised his eyes to meet Noel’s knowing ones. The Guardian stepped away, lifting Mogki off his shoulder to poke its round tummy.

“Now, Mogki, that’s not a fair question to ask. Of course he does.”

The answer was in all those years of fevered obsession and shrouded dreams, grown from the seed of a youthful infatuation which his mind had forgotten but his heart had carefully cultivated. He had been trying to save the future—Noel’s future—without even knowing that purpose. He created his crystal to save Noel from the fruitless cycles, and left Noel alone because he knew they would meet again, believing in the thread which bound them together. And when they met again, ghostly memories drew forth admiration and trust, reinforcing the belief in Noel he had always unknowingly harbored.

“The fair question,” Noel continued, bringing up Mogki to eye level with a mock serious air, “is which of us he loves more.” His eyes narrowed. “This makes us rivals. You better prepare yourself, Mogki. I don’t like losing.”

Hope kicked him lightly in the shin. As far as he was concerned, loving someone didn’t preclude excusing foolishness.

 

  
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“This place…”

Outside, the mountains had seemed like the rest of the land around it. There was no real evidence of dimensional clash, not like the two other areas before. But Noel had been sure a clash was here and the two squeezed into a small opening behind a roaring waterfall which opened into a great cave.

The vast cavern was brightly lit by shafts of light streaming down through cracks and holes in its rocky ceiling, the sheets of light fuzzy with motes of drifting spores. Green covered every inch of the walls—not a slimy lichen but a rich, earthy moss. The ground under their feet was springy, blooming with bright flowers. Water trickled from on high down to a cool lagoon at the center of the cave. Crystal stalagmites thrust through its blue surface to break the light into thousands of tiny fragments.

Hope inhaled deeply; the air was fresh with the scent of ozone, like after a spring rain.

“It wasn’t like this before… ” Noel gazed around in wonder. “How could anything have withstood the concentration of chaos?”

“Noel, look!” Hope touched Noel’s arm and pointed. Above the middle of the pool floated a ghostly shadow of a crystal, emanating its own transparent light which burned away the washed hues.

“Didn’t think it’d be this easy…” Noel beelined for the pool, summoning the crystal star. Its dark surface glimmered with a faint hint of green and the echo of crystal over the lagoon pulsated in answer.

“It must be some sort of remnant of the will of the warrior it belonged to,” Hope said. “It may have manifested to protect this place.”

Noel slowed to a stop. “It may not have been the only one.”

“Hm?” Hope joined Noel, following his gaze. In front of the pool the air shimmered, swirling into a small, misty silhouette without color. Elaborate armor encased slim limbs and a plumed helm crested its ghostly head.

The specter stared down Noel with eyes which almost seemed real. It drew its small sword in dead silence, pointing the needle end at the Guardian in challenge.

“Wait!” Hope suddenly pushed past Noel, recognizing the revenant. “It’s me, Hope. Do you remember?”

The revenant of the Onion Knight tilted his head at him, before his sword dipped down. His large, mirror-like eyes reflected back the green of the cave. [ _You’re older…_ ]

Hope smiled wide in relief. His fingers itched to touch his old friend. “A lot of time has passed.”

[ _If you say so, but it’s not fair you’re taller now._ ] A sulk pulled at the ghost’s face. [ _So why are you here?_ ]

“The war continued, even after you all defeated Chaos and everyone returned.” Hope gestured at Noel behind him. “But Noel’s been battling Chaos since then. Now some of us were summoned back, so we need your assistance.”

[ _Noel? That stalker?_ ] The revenant shot a glare at the Guardian, and Noel’s eyes flicked heavenward in resignation. [ _You were always a sucker for him. I told you to watch out for his type…_ ]

Sheepishly, Hope bobbed his head. “I understand your suspicions about him, but please… ”

[ _Only because it’s you that asked. Looks like I still have to watch over you even though you’re older now._ ]

“Thank you.” Hope’s smile was grateful.

[ _Hope? I—I remembered my name._ ] The revenant held out a hand shyly. [ _So let’s meet again someday._ ]

“Of course,” Hope agreed, reaching out to shake it. But his fingers closed around air and the specter melted into pyreflies, hovering like tiny birds. A wind ruffled their hair briefly, carrying away the motes of light.

Hope watched them go, the remains of the lingering will of his first friend in this otherworld.

“Got his wish,” Noel said quietly. The crystal star shimmered with a faint newborn light, pale green. His hands clasped around the crystal and it burst into sparks. “I’ll see it through.”

“What did he want?”

“To protect you from stalking predators.” Noel’s eyes danced.

Hope made a face. “You’re not serious.”

“Only a little.” Noel spread his hands at the Onion Knight’s antagonism toward him. “But mainly he wants you to return home.”

“He was my first friend here.” Hope scratched a cheek, remembering with shy fondness the way the knight had so assertively approached him and took him under his wing. “I suppose because we were the youngest of the group, he felt it was his responsibility to take care of me.”

Noel snorted. “Guess he must’ve missed out on the other end of your temper. Well, except that one time you went overkill on him.”

Hope punched Noel in the arm.

“Ow! This is what I mean.”

“Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

 

  
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It was an empty, broken stadium. It was a celestial window overlooking the world. It was a wasteland composed entirely of crystal.

The concentration of chaos varied at each clash, but it was hard to ignore that there was a steady increase at each successive stop. Noel noted Chaos must be recovering; the unfettered chaos was reacting in kind, an urgent reminder of the limited time they had to prepare before the dark god would awaken.

However, with the effects of chaos coupled with the need for dimensional travel, Hope found himself in a state of constant migraines as Noel’s own disposition fluctuated between moody and talkative. This forced them to retrieve the crystals slower than anticipated, and each time it seemed to take longer to clear the chaos accumulating in their bodies.

“Three left,” Noel said, spinning the crystal star on the tip of a finger. It gleamed with the chaotic energy of Zidane’s wish, brighter than before. Noel was in good spirits; the ghost of Zidane’s crystal had kept most of the chaos at bay within the wasteland. “Two days remaining. Not bad.”

“Celebrate after we have all of them.”

Noel flashed him a crooked smile, the star dissipating into sparks. “I'm holding you to that.  Anyway, take ten. We’ll have to go through the distortion again.”

Hope couldn’t hold back his groan and Mogki patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.

 

  
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“Kupo…!” Mogki fluttered ahead of them as they tumbled out of the rift into bright grey light.

Hope shielded his face from the brilliance. The sky was almost white, though devoid of sun or cloud. Its shine sparkled off a shimmering sea spread before them, waves lapping at a beach of stones.

“Looks like another clash altered the effects of chaos,” Noel grunted, squinting.

“Maybe another warrior’s will coalesced?” Hope turned away from the shining beach. Behind them was a lone peak of rock, haphazardly thrust from the earth like a rising beast. A gaping maw opened wide into darkness. “...More caves.”

“Try not to sound so excited,” Noel said, slapping him on the back with a wink as he ran on ahead, Mogki clinging to him.

“I’ll try to curtail my enthusiasm.”

“At least there won’t be high levels of chaos,” Noel began, stepping into the mouth of the cavern. “Should be an easy tri—” and the Guardian plummeted to his knees, doubling over. Mogki tumbled off him with a surprised mewl.

“Noel!” Hope rushed up behind him, but as he crossed into the dry darkness, chaos reached out and crushed his entire body in an invisible grip.

He could almost hear the hum of the chaotic waves rolling through the air. Noel gasped in front of him and he put his hands out blindly, grabbing onto the Guardian’s back. His fingers dug into the crevices in Noel’s armor and he pulled as hard as he could, jerking Noel out of the cave onto gravel and stumbling down next to him.

Noel rolled onto his side and curled tightly against Hope, arms cradling his head in pain.

“Noel…!” Hope leaned over him in alarm, Mogki peeping over his shoulder. A red glow pulsed from his chest; Noel curled up tighter as if to suppress it, shaking his head wordlessly.

The next few moments felt like eternity, but Noel’s arms finally slid off his head, flopping bonelessly down. He shot a wan smile at Hope and Mogki; even in the bright skylight he seemed a touch faded except for the glint in his eyes. “That was a little overwhelming.”

Hope let out an explosive sigh of exasperation and relief, dropping his forehead onto Noel’s shoulder. “And that was a small understatement,” he muttered. He tilted his head to glare at Noel, but the Guardian’s eyes were closed, a line creasing between his brow. Hope’s irritation at Noel’s offhand remark dissipated, and he brushed the Guardian’s sweat-dampened hair from his eyes. “It really affects you.”

“Mm.” Noel’s fingers crawled to his chest, and the red light surfaced briefly in response to his touch. “It has to do with this.”

“You once implied that that had something to with your immortality.”

“It has everything to do with it.” With effort and Hope’s help, Noel sat up. “This is Etro’s heart.”

“The Goddess Etro?” Hope blinked, astonished. “How?”

But Noel shook his head, his shoulders slumped with fatigue. “That doesn’t matter now. All that’s important is that I wasn’t able to subdue it, so I’m a slave to the chaos within.” His lips twisted. “That also means I’m a slave to the chaos without.”

“Noel…”

The Guardian waved away Hope’s pity, gazing at the mouth of the cave looming before them. “Looks like whatever stabilized the chaos out here didn’t do much inside. Or maybe something inside is drawing all the chaos to it. Either way, we gotta figure out something.”

“Give me the crystal,” Hope said.

“What?” Noel’s head swiveled toward him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ll enter. You remain here.” Hope held out a hand. “Give me the crystal.”

“You can’t manifest wishes,” Noel said with a furrow of his brow. “Even if you made it through, you can’t do anything at the end.”

“I created that crystal, didn’t I? What did you think I made it from? Moonbeams? I’ll figure out something.”

“Bartz is right, you got a lot more mean with age.”

“Call it frustration for dealing with stubborn idiots for many years.” Hope shook his head. “Noel, you couldn’t even step past the threshold of that entrance. I know that the chaos does more things to you than cause pain. It changes you.” Violet eyes flicked away at that and this just made Hope more determined. “Give me my crystal. Time is running out.”

After a moment, Noel sighed, drawing forth the crystal. Hope reached for it, but Noel drew it back. “Hope.”

“What?”

“If it gets to be too much, get out, all right? We can come back later once we figured something out.”

Hope snatched the crystal from him. With the gradual restoration of its light, he could feel its comforting warmth through the leather of his gloves. “Trust me. And no chasing after me or any other bright ideas.” He smiled. “Or I’ll skin you like that monster from before.”

He meant it as a joke, but Noel didn’t smile back.

Holding the crystal tight, Hope stood. “I’ll return soon.”

“Don’t die.”

Hope brushed Noel’s hair from his face with a reassuring touch before leaning over to press their mouths together as clumsily as he had when he was fourteen. But what had been innocent then wasn’t now; Noel pulled at him desperately, as a drowning man might harm another in his frenzy. Hope nearly collapsed, bracing a hand on Noel’s shoulder, unable to do little more than let Noel consume him.

When Noel drew him even closer, Hope quickly jerked away with a stifled sound, short of breath.

Noel met his wide gaze with eyes hooded by long lashes. “Don’t die,” he repeated quietly.

Hope licked his lips; the feel and taste of Noel was still there and the thought made the blood rush to his cheeks. He whirled around, squaring his shoulders and staring down the entrance of the cave as he regained his composure. It really was unfair how Noel could render him speechless.

“Kupo!” Mogki plopped onto his shoulder. [Mogki’ll go too!]

“You sure?” Hope asked, surprised. Mogki never left Noel’s side.

The moogling nodded. [Mogki’s not affected, so Mogki can be a big help!]

“Right.” Hope glanced back at Noel; the Guardian’s face was neutral. Facing the yawning opening again, Hope took a deep breath and plunged in.

 

  
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The darkness was absolute inside the cave. The will o’ wisp Hope had conjured for light did little to break the fog of chaos wafting through claustrophobic tunnels. His crystal’s pale green light was far more potent; Hope found that the chaos melted away before it. As long as he remained within its weak aura, the effects of chaos were bearable.

Still, he did not know how long he had been walking, feeling his way along the smooth, dry walls. The uneven path wound and twisted, up and down, but there were no branching forks. Chaos loomed all around, its faint hum a tiny drill inside his head.

Mogki led the way just at the edge of his sight, his fur tinged green as he bobbed in and out of the radius of light. Suddenly the moogling cried out with ringing chirps, dashing ahead.

“Mogki!” Hope shouted, his voice instantly snuffed by the blanket of chaos. He stumbled on. “Wait up!”

Light suddenly flared in his eyes and he flung up an arm to shield his face, skidding to a halt. The hum of chaos abruptly stopped and his ears were filled with a sweet tinkling. A gentle breeze picked at his hair.

He blinked, slowly lowering his arm as his vision adjusted to the soft brightness of this inner sanctum after so long in consuming darkness. The chamber was not large, naturally hollowed from the stone, illuminated by the shadow of a crystal spinning at its center. With each shimmer, a playful chime would echo off the walls, silver music to Hope’s ears.

Mogki hovered around the insubstantial crystal excitedly. [Look, Ho-po!]

“I see it,” he said. The crystal must’ve absorbed the chaos only within the chamber, manifesting into its ghostly shape. He stepped toward it.

[ _Stop...!_ ]

The specter darted in front of him, arms cradling the crystal fiercely. Mogki squeaked in surprise, darting to the safety of Hope’s shoulder.

Hope did not recognize this revenant; it appeared female but non-human, transparent flesh naked, hair wild like flame, and lips curled to bare fangs. Like the Onion Knight and Zidane, the revenant’s eyes were more substantial, mirror-like, reflecting the red-violet of the crystal.

Hope held out hands to show he was weaponless; her eyes fell on his crystal and she hesitated.

“My name is Hope.” He smiled warmly. “This is Mogki.”

“Kupopo…”

The revenant slowly released the crystal, standing before it with a wary watchfulness. [ _What… what do you want?_ ]

“The war is occurring again. A few of us were summoned back.” Hope motioned behind him. “My friend and I, we’re gathering crystals to fight Chaos.”

The revenant shook her head. [ _You can’t have this one. I have to protect it. I’m sorry..._ ]

“Please… if we don’t retrieve all the crystals, then those of us who returned will be lost. And my friend—”

[ _If this crystal leaves this sanctuary, the chaos outside might destroy it._ ] The revenant’s eyes pleaded with him. [ _This crystal was given to me through my friends. They saved me, even though I was their enemy—a monster. I have to protect it._ ]

She used to be one of Chaos, he realized. She must’ve been befriended by a Warrior of Cosmos. Her story mirrored his own experience...

“My friend—he’s considered the enemy too.” She looked at him in surprise. “He didn’t want to be—he shouldn’t be. But he’s my friend and…” Hope trailed off, raking a hand through his hair as he struggled to align his feelings into words. “He’s been fighting against Chaos all this time though and the manifestation of chaos is consuming him. I have to protect him. I have to save him.” He lowered his eyes, remembering the way Noel had laughed at his boasts. _‘Hope, I really do love you.’_ “I love him.”

[ _Love…_ ]

Hope nodded, hands held out in supplication. “Please, help us.”

The specter wavered in the shimmering light as she moved toward him, eyes no longer cautious as she studied his face. [ _For love…_ ] Her clawed hands twisted together and she bowed her head. [ _To protect…_ ] She lifted her head and her face softened. [ _Yes… you can have it. My friends were so kind to me; how could I repay their kindness if I can’t give any to someone who needs it to protect someone he loves?_ ]

A gentle smile spread across Hope’s face. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

She held up a claw, hiding behind it almost shyly. [ _But on one condition._ ]

Hope blinked. “Name it.”

[ _M-may I…_ ] And her tiny smile was demure. [ _Fluff Mogki’s pompom?_ ]

“Kupo…?” The moogling tilted his head, tiny spots of color on its cheeks. It fluttered toward the revenant.

She happily fluffed at the bright pink ball, much to Mogki’s embarrassment, though her claws passed through it. With shining eyes, she smiled sweetly at Hope. [ _Protect all that you love._ ]

Hope smiled back. “I will. And I’ll take care of your crystal.”

She nodded once, evaporating into motes of pyreflies which swirled around her crystal as they faded away.

Hope watched them go before approaching the shimmering crystal. His fingers skimmed the surface, but he felt nothing but air. “Is your wish to protect all that you love?” he asked it, but the crystal continued to ring with no answers.

[Hmmm… Noel usually just asks and gets the wish, kupo.] Mogki bobbed up and down behind him, rubbing an ear in thought.

“That’s because hearing the wish solidifies the will of chaos using Noel as a conduit.”

“Ku?” [Mogki didn’t understand any of that, kupo.]

Hope smiled briefly. “Chaos makes up the invisible world, and as a being of chaos, Noel has the power to bring it into the seen world. When he acknowledges a wish, he forms the chaos into a crystal through my own. In the most simple of terms, my crystal is simply a jar and only Noel can remove objects from it.”

[Only Noel can do that? Whao, Noel is so cool, kupo!]

“Well, potentially any being with chaos inside them can accomplish this. I mean, all humans have chaos, but some have it in far more vast quantities.” Hope lifted his crystal next to the ghostly one. “The question is how can I achieve this? When I created my crystal, it took a lot of duress and even then I was simply extracting from myself...”

Was there a way he could amplify his own inner chaos? But to reach Noel’s level in chaotic affinity might be a stretch. As for his own crystal... While he could feel his crystal’s warmth, its power was inaccessible. Certainly nothing to pull from. Perhaps if he could draw in the chaos from outside the chamber, the ghostly crystal would absorb it and continue to solidify… But how to gather an outside source of chaotic energy?

Still, that seemed the best path to take. If he could feed enough chaos into the crystal’s shade, that should phase it into the seen realm.

[Ho-po.]

“Hm?” Hope stared at the two crystals, lost in thought.

[Did you know Mogki has a wish, kupo?] The moogling fluttered to the shadowed crystal, nose twitching.

“What?”

[A wish, kupo. Mogki has a wish.] The little moogling reached out and touched a paw to the crystal; it shimmered at its touch. [Will Ho-po make sure Noel remembers?]

Hope stared at the substantial surface gleaming under Mogki’s paw. “You—” It dawned on him. Monsters were creatures of chaos. Moogles were classified as monsters… and on top of that, they were interdimensional travellers. Only beings with great chaotic power in their hearts could utilize such an ability.

Mogki wasn’t affected by the concentration of chaos. Why should it be? It was a manifestation of chaos itself.

( _Mogki could meld his chaotic energy and this crystal into one. But… as a being of pure chaos… he’d crystallize…_ )

Alarmed, Hope snatched the moogle away and the ghostly crystal faded into transparency. “What are you doing?!”

[Ho-po, Mogki doesn’t want Noel to be alone.] The moogling bowed its head, pompom drooping. [Mogki’s not enough for Noel. Mogki couldn’t save Noel like Mogki had promised Ho-po. But if Mogki does this, then Mogki can help Noel too, kupo!] It squirmed out of his grasp, hovering. Its paws rubbed at its belly. Despite its words, it was scared.

Hope reached for it again but Mogki flitted away. “Mogki, we don’t want to do anything rash.” He tried to keep his voice calm. “You think Noel wants this? You’ve been there for him since the beginning—he’ll be devastated if you...” Hope shook his head at the panic rising up his spine. “Just allow me to think this through. Every problem has a solution and if I have a little time—”

[Mogki wants to be strong like Noel and Ho-po. Mogki wants to protect what Mogki loves too, kupo.] Like a lost hummingbird, the moogling flittered this way and that, determination pushing against its fear and fear pushing against its determination.

Hope jumped up, swiping at the air as the moogling darted up. “Mogki, don’t—Noel, he’ll—”

[Mogki loves Noel and Ho-po. So Ho-po needs to remember Mogki’s wish too.] And it careened wildly at the crystal shadow with hardened bravery. Hope cried out, desperately grabbing for the moogling one final time.

 

  
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Hope watched with mild surprise as the moogling left its perch on Noel’s head to fly gracelessly beside him as they traversed down an old road through yellow plains.

[Mogki’s sorry Mogki called Ho-po stupid, kupo.]

Hope smiled timidly at the tiny creature. It slightly scared him because it was a monster, but at the same time, it was so harmless and cute. “Oh… right, that. I kind of forgot about it, so it’s okay. And I mean, I called you a toy and everything too. That was rude of me.”

Mogki’s berry nose wiggled at the reminder. [Ho-po was very rude, but Mogki forgive Ho-po. Noel said friends should forgive friends when friends make mistakes, kupo.] It tilted its head, the pompom flopping. Hope’s fingers twitched involuntarily—he wanted to touch it. [Since Mogki and Ho-po are friends, Mogki forgives Ho-po and Mogki’s sorry for calling Ho-po stupid.]

“Yeah… I guess we’re friends.” Hope shifted self-consciously, clasping his hands together behind his back.

“Kupopopopo!” Mogki bobbed ahead, throwing itself at the back of Noel’s head. [Did Noel hear, kupo? Mogki and Ho-po are friends!]

“Hey, that’s one-up on me,” Noel said with a laugh. “I’m jealous.”

Hope glowered at Noel’s back; he sometimes hated how Noel was so casual with him. He knew the warrior of Chaos was hiding something and he knew it had to do with why Noel was always helping him.

[Keep fighting, Noel! Then Noel, Ho-po, and Mogki can all be friends and be happy together!]

Hope wondered what kind of happiness he could gain from a friendship with those two.

 

  
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In the darkened chamber, all was silent. Hope knelt at its center, head bowed over the two crystals clutched tight in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happening in one chapter. :|a
> 
> I have mixed feelings about this chapter, so moving on...
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading!


	9. act ii. cycle xx. 3

**act ii. cycle xx. 3.**

Hope stumbled out of the darkness and into the white light, his vision blanking before clearing into the high contrast colors of sea and rocky beach. Noel was a dark silhouette a few meters away, tossing pebbles into the air and catching them on the back of his hand. Hope hesitated before faltering toward the Guardian.

Lifting his head at the sound of footsteps, Noel smiled wide in relief. It stabbed into Hope’s heart and he slowed to a stop, fists hanging limp at his sides.

“You made it!” The Guardian scrambled to his feet, jogging over. “Did you get it?”

Hope nodded dumbly, eyes lowering against the cheer in Noel’s face. His fingers convulsed over the crystals.

“...Hope?” Noel rested his fingertips against Hope’s neck, lifting the other man’s chin with his thumbs. He peered at Hope in concern. “What’s wrong? Was it the chaos? Do you need to rest?”

Hope couldn’t look Noel in the eye. What could he say?

“Hey, Mogki, what happened in there?” Noel asked, glancing at his shoulder out of habit. But of course the moogling wasn’t there and Hope inhaled deep, his breath trembling.

Noel looked around. “Mogki?”

Hope’s mouth worked and he swallowed. “...I’m sorry,” he managed to work past his dry throat.

 

  
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The archaeopolis wasn’t as well-preserved as the Paddra ruins, but it was far more vast, its straight, networked roads disappearing past the horizon. It must’ve been a major city, its buildings forming a jagged skyline that sometimes crowded the heavens, but whatever glory it had was long devoured by time and chaos.

Hope walked beside Noel, keeping pace as best he could, stealing glances at the Guardian. Noel had taken the news of Mogki’s sacrifice in stony silence, receiving the two crystals with an impassive expression. Noel never locked his emotions and it worried Hope, who blamed himself for what had happened. His numerous apologies would never atone for it.

The Guardian had set off immediately with only a curt explanation that they were to reach the next clash by foot. He hadn’t said anything since.

The day felt like eternity between the crushing silence and his inner grief. Hope was already physically exhausted from battling the chaos inside the cave, and now the mental fatigue drained whatever reserves he had left. Anger and sorrow, shrouded with guilt, pulled him in fifteen different directions.

Finally he stepped in front of Noel and the Guardian almost ran into him in his haste.

“Stop. I need to stop. Please.”

Something rippled across Noel’s face and Hope wondered if the Guardian blamed him for Mogki’s loss; he lowered his eyes, angry at himself for not thinking faster, for not planning something sooner, for not reacting quicker—a million scenarios of things he could’ve done made brilliant sense in hindsight and he hated that not a single one came to him when it had mattered.

“Come on,” Noel said, turning away. Hope followed with heavy footsteps.

The structure was probably once a several story building; its foundations had crumbled and the roof caved in at a slant. Noel easily pulled himself up over rocks and walls onto the upper stories, climbing inside through the remains of a window.

When Hope arrived at the window, Noel was jumping up and down on the remainder of what had once been a polished wooden floor, now eaten by time with a giant gaping hole in the center. It creaked under his weight and dust hit the ground underneath them, but it held.

Hope stepped carefully in and that was as far as he was willing to go across the rickety wood, resting his back against the wall by the window. Noel stared down at him before he briefly closed his eyes, his withdrawn mask cracking.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He crouched down by Hope, meeting his eyes. There was no reproach in the grieving violet. “I was too caught up in my own anger that I didn’t notice you were suffering too. I’m sorry.”

Hope’s mouth tightened.

“And don’t blame yourself for what happened. I know that you are.” Noel sighed. “If I had been stronger, then it wouldn’t have come to this.” He took Hope’s hands, toying with his fingers.

So Noel felt responsible too. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“And it wasn’t yours.” Noel’s fingers tightened over his. “How about we make a deal? You stop blaming yourself and I’ll stop blaming myself, because none of that will do us any good.”

“Yes, of course…”

“And I’ve been thinking... If we beat Chaos, the crystal might restore Mogki.” Noel summoned both crystals, turning them over in his palms. “Like how the crystals returned those lost to the Void—like you. After all, Mogki’s not really gone—it’s like he’s in stasis.”

Hope didn’t want to believe Noel was wrong. “That does make sense...”

Noel smiled faintly, eliciting a half-hearted one from Hope . “It’s not much, but we can’t give up.”

“...You haven’t heard his wish yet.” The presence of two crystals confirmed this.

“No.” Noel settled down beside Hope, legs drawn up. “I already know what it is.” He tipped his head back against the wall. “After Chaos was purified, I was in stasis myself for some time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Chaos’ death released all that chaos, right? I was there at ground zero. My Heart tried to take in all that power but my body couldn’t take it.” Noel closed his eyes in memory. “Your crystal saved me. It created this shell to protect me, but it used all its power in the process.

“Mogki’s the one that released me. That little guy was all alone and waited for me the entire time. I don’t know how long I was sleeping, but I could just tell he was there, keeping me company. I think your crystal finally heard his wish and released me. By that time, the world had changed and only a few warriors—from either side—were left. They were working together, but the end result...” Noel shrugged.

“Even when I was lost, he stayed by me. I guess he felt helpless that he couldn’t help me more. So when he saw his chance to really help me, he took it. This is what Mogki wanted, Hope. It’s selfish, but wishes are selfish.” Noel’s eyes were hard and sad; he closed his fist around the crystal Mogki created. It crumbled into stars and Hope’s crystal grew a little brighter as Noel received its wish.

Hope bit his lip, thinking of his own. “Maybe they’re selfish, but that doesn’t make them bad.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Noel tilted his head at Hope, and wistful smile ghosted across his lips. “And that’s why I can’t stay angry or sad. Because all he wanted was for us to be happy.”

Hope understood that, but it only aroused more conflicted emotions. It was unfair that happiness may not include Mogki, but what was it Noel had said? ‘As long as they were happy...’ Yet why did wanting someone else’s happiness often cost so much?

Was a wish for someone else really selfish when the price was high?  
  
Noel rolled the crystal star between his fingers, staring into space. Hope watched its light flicker over agile hands, the brown skin rough and inelegant, the nails worn and dirty. He wondered if Noel knew that the crystal was a curse because of the selfish, cruel wish which shaped it.

( _He has to know what my wish is. He hears them all…_ )

Even if Noel did know, he still held the crystal so carefully.

“On that first day,” Hope said to dispel his brooding thoughts, tearing his eyes from the crystal, “if Mogki hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have gone with you. You could say he helped bring us together.”

“What?” Noel’s fingers stilled, confused.

“When we first met. Mogki made it easier for me to believe that you wouldn’t do me harm.” It felt good to talk about this. The grief was still near, but the sad memories made the happy memories happy.

Noel raised a brow in disbelief. “Even though he called you stupid and tried to bully you?”

Hope scratched a cheek sheepishly. “Well, you need to consider it from my perspective. It’s hard to imagine someone as even remotely dangerous when he sports a moogle as a hat.” Hope smiled fondly at Noel in memory. “It was rather disarming.”

“You… weren’t very impressed with me, were you?”

“Well,” Hope said slowly, considering. “You did have a cute friend. That was a point in your favor.”

“Sounds more like a point in Mogki’s favor.”

“What can I say? That pompom was adorable. There’s nothing adorable about you.” Hope’s eyes danced with a teasing light.

Noel chuckled quietly in defeat, nuzzling their noses together.

“You really believe we can get him back?” Hope asked softly, running gloved fingertips over the Guardian’s cheekbones as he stole a kiss.

Noel smiled, but it was steeled with resolve. “I’ll see his wish through.”

 

 

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They had been walking for hours over the hard terrain. Wind had carved the red-striped rocks and mountains into fantastic sweeping sculptures of loneliness; nothing moved among these silent sentinels but the occasional sluggish green creek or wandering monster.

Hope had been under the impression that their next destination was close, since Noel had been inclined to go there on foot rather than by distortion, but as the sky moved into a deeper shade of grey, he began to doubt this theory.

In fact, he suspected Noel was lost.

The Guardian finally slowed to a halt when the ravine they had been following branched into several tributaries, looking about discreetly.

Hope sank gratefully down onto a flat boulder, rubbing aching legs. “You’re lost.”

Noel stiffened. “I’m not lost.” Hope had learned on their journeys long ago that Noel prided himself on his ability to find his way anywhere. And to be fair, this was the first time Noel had ever led them astray. “I just didn’t think you were up to going through a distortion after all that happened.”

Though chastised by Noel’s consideration, it still didn’t change the current situation: “You’re lost.”

“... I thought we’d see signs of the clash by now,” Noel reluctantly admitted. “Look, I’m going to take a quick look around. I know it’s nearby.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Noel waved a hand. “Gonna do some distortion hopping. It’ll be faster. Just stay here.” Hope couldn’t agree quick enough, but Noel hesitated. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

“I don’t know, Noel, I’m so helpless and lost without you.” Hope arched his brows pointedly, leaning back on his hands.

“... right, ask a stupid question…” Noel shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

  
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Hope tossed the handful of small pebbles up, flipping his hand over. Only two landed safely on the back of it and he frowned. He threw the pair up and tried to catch them in midair. Only one lay in his grasp when he opened his fingers.

“How does he do it…” Hope muttered to himself. Sighing, he dropped the stone and stood, stretching his back. It felt like a quarter of an hour had passed, but it could’ve been more or less. It was hard to gauge without the sun.

The barren hills stretched on forever in every direction; Hope couldn’t really blame Noel for getting lost, as every rock looked the same as the next. The gully cut sharp into the land, the cliffs rising high with serrated edges.

His boots crunched over the rocks as he approached the trickle of water running through the ravine. This must’ve been a rushing river at one point; the pebbles in the rocky bed were smooth. But all that remained now was a golden-brown wash of water, barely six feet wide and no more than a few inches deep. It flowed with the rush of slime.

A sudden fresh breeze ruffled through Hope’s hair. He lifted his face; the scent of flowers was faint upon the wind. Wary, he looked up the ravine in the direction of the wind; lazily fluttering petals tossed on the breeze, scarlet birds circling each other. As they passed Hope, they slipped through the wind’s fingers to land gently upon the surface of the stream. At each kiss, the brown water would ripple silver-blue, clear as crystal.

The soft nicker of a horse drew his attention; upstream a beautiful white equine creature was at the water’s edge, proud head turned to him. Without thinking, Hope stepped into the water, petals swarming around his ankles. He knew this horse, so he wasn’t surprised to see her step from behind Odin’s great neck, a gauntleted hand resting on its nose.

She was much the same as she had appeared to him in that long-ago dream, brightly armored as a goddess, eyes ancient with all that she had seen and fought. He stepped forward again, but she held up her hand and he could see there was a demarcation between them. A vast planescape of a dead city stretched beyond her, and behind it lay the misty horizon of this otherworld with Sanctuary as its crest. The two dimensions had temporarily collided.

Hope knew she was actually here before him—that this was no lingering phantom or an illusion from a dream. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but the physical distance between them was a lie. She had been missing from his life the longest, the hole left by her absence the wound that cut most deeply. But he also knew this was not a reunion or a casual meeting—she had come to him now for some practical purpose. That was just how Light was.

So he remained silent, waiting, and her face showed her approval that he understood.

“I don’t have much time,” she said. Her voice was even; if she was happy to see Hope, she did not show it. “Nor do you.” Her clear gaze hardened. “Hope, you must release Noel Kreiss from the cycles.”

“What?” That was not what he expected. Not that he wasn’t working toward that end, but he didn’t expect Light to concern herself with it.

Solemn lines creased the corners of her mouth. “Time has branched for us. Two possibilities are co-existing, neither realized. Until Caius’ death is acknowledged, time will continue as if it never happened.”

“You mean…” Hope’s brows furrowed. “Noel becoming a Guardian. You’re saying that should not have occurred.”

She inclined her head. “Because Caius died in a place which did not exist, and because Noel was lost to the timeline, it’s as if the events of Caius’ demise never happened. And now that Noel is trapped in between time—Caius will continue to be the reality for us.”

“A paradox…”

“Yes. Until it is resolved, my fight continues. Serah’s fate…” She quickly shook those dangerous thoughts from her head, standing tall. “Everything hinges on breaking this prison. There can only be one Guardian; if Noel is restored to the timeline, it will be proof of Caius’ death and everything else will fall into place.”

Crystal petals of light swirled before Hope, condensing into a gem of a rose, shining in brilliance. It lowered onto Hope’s outstretched hands. He could feel the power inside it, calling to him.

It looked like her eidolith, but it felt different. A sick feeling washed over him. After he had left the cycles, did Cosmos call for a replacement? It would make sense, since she would need the crystal from that warrior… “Light, this is—”

“I too once fought here. Hope, wield my crystal and fulfill my wish.” A sudden gust of wind and petals blinded him and he turned away to shield himself. But as suddenly as it came, it died and when he opened his eyes she was gone. Dead leaves drifted on the brown water. Her crystal pulsed between his palms.

“Hope!” Noel’s voice carried over the still air. The Guardian slid down the embankment, sloshing up to him in concern. “What are you doing?”

“Ah…” Hope half-turned to him, his fingers curling around the crystal rose. Noel’s face was worried and Hope felt the world settling on his shoulders as he realized the importance of the young man standing in front of him. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it was one he never enjoyed.

( _Failure was never an option, though. Even if I hadn’t known how much this would affect our world, my goal all along had been to save him._ )

That’s right. Nothing had changed.

“You…” Noel eyed the crystal. “How did you get that…?”

“Light gave it to me.”

“She did? Her spirit was here?” Noel glanced around the empty gully. “But how did you get the crystal to manifest?”

“I believe she really was here. Temporarily, at least. This crystal is real.”

Noel rubbed his chin. “Hmm… Valhalla exists outside of Time and this place exists between it. I guess there could be some way to connect the two.” He smiled. “Either way, pretty lucky for us.” He reached for the crystal.

Hope drew it back, fingers tightening over air as it disappeared into shining petals. “No. I believe this was meant for me. I feel its power.” ( _And her wish… all for Serah. Don’t worry, Light. Together, we can save everyone._ )

Noel blinked at Hope’s stringent tone before smiling easily. “Sure. You’re from the same homeworld. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“...You knew she fought here.”

Nodding, Noel folded his arms over his chest, tapping his fingers on his arm. “It was after you left. She was here for one cycle. I didn’t talk with her, but I knew it was her.”

“I see…”

“And right now you’re feeling guilty about it, huh?” Noel sighed. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure?” Noel flicked Hope in the forehead and the scientist jerked back, rubbing the spot with a sulk. Noel just grinned in response.

“Show a little respect. I’m older than you now, you know…” Hope mumbled.

“Believe me, I know,” Noel said with a crooked smirk and Hope fought back a blush at the implication. “But you can overthink things later. Lightning gave you her crystal so she’s putting her faith in us to finish things here.”

Hope smiled a bit sheepishly. “Yes. One left.”

“Yeah.” Noel’s smile faded and he looked upstream. Sanctuary was a dim shadow. “I know where it is.”

“Back at Sanctuary?”

“That bastard’s waiting for me back there.” Noel punched a fist into his palm, scowling in annoyance. “He wouldn’t even work with me at the very end so I doubt he’s just gonna hand over his crystal. Why is he so stubborn?”

“... Noel?” Hope touched his arm, astonished. Noel was so easy-going that it was nearly impossible to ruffle his feathers. Hope never thought he’d see him worked up like a petulant child. “What are you talking about?”

Noel waved a hand in dismissal. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

  
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The others had not arrived back to Sanctuary when they stepped out of the distortion. Hope bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to regain his sense of self. Noel paced as he recovered, full of excess energy, a dim spark of fey light in his eyes. Hope watched him, but there was nothing dismal about his mood; more than anything, he seemed expectant, as if facing an undesirable but mandatory task.

When Hope felt human again, Noel led the way into Sanctuary’s bosom, but things were different. A faint blue light now gleamed at the end of the hall, bathing away the washed tones of the crumbled statuary and stone. Noel’s long legs quickened with purpose and Hope jogged to keep up.

The antechamber was alight with soft will o’wisps, as Hope had remembered it before the poison of chaos. Vivid colors swam in his sight, a wild circus after staring at the worn world for so long. Radiance streamed up from the center dais, the summoning glyph throbbing with restored power.

Noel didn’t hesitate, stepping onto the crest. He turned and held out a hand to Hope. The light softened the planes of Noel’s face and sparked azure in his violet eyes.

“If you come, you can’t interfere, no matter what happens.”

Hope slipped his hand into Noel’s grip. “You’re not going to do anything foolish, are you?”

“No,” Noel smirked, pulling him up.

“That fails to reassure me.”

“Don’t worry.” He kissed Hope’s forehead. “I won’t lose.”

The summoning circle flashed and the antechamber blurred as a curtain of rising water drew up, glowing bright. Then with a blazing shimmer the water collapsed, revealing the silver-clouded sky of the Goddess’ Rest.

The vast chamber was empty, the shallow lagoon’s still surface reflecting the inside heavens of the dimensional pocket. The divan upon which the Goddess Cosmos had used as her throne bore only the fragmented shard of a brilliant, gleaming crystal.

At their entrance, the crystal floated up and began to glow, forming into the white shadow of a man. It solidified into blue armor, crested by a great horned helm, with shield and sword in hand.

The marble face of the Guardian of the Goddess regarded them coolly, eyes reflecting the sky. This was more than just a specter like the others; the lingering sentiment of his crystal bore the remains of his iron will and duty, stronger than the rest. The shade before them was as real as the man had been.

A brilliant crown of flaming white swords ignited upon his brow and the water about his feet shone bright. An unblinking gaze bore down hard on Noel, silently challenging.

Noel stepped off the dais, his sister swords sparking to life. “Stay here,” he told Hope, not looking back as he lightly tread into the water. Hope gripped the side-tails of his coat, forcing himself to remain a spectator.

The Warrior of Light swept up his broadsword to his face in a salute.

“Heh.” Noel gravely did the same. “You know what? I think you’re the first person I’ve ever disliked in my entire life. Thanks for the experience.” He arced his sword down, chaos bleeding the water dark at his feet. “But this has nothing to do with that. I’m here for your crystal.”

A smirk crossed Noel’s lips as the Warrior of Light answered in the silence of his mind. “A test? I don’t expect anything less.” His feet slowly spaced apart, the sinew of his muscles tightening. “Deny the chaos in your heart all you want, but I’ll show you what a real Guardian can do.”

With burst of speed he charged at the Warrior and the two met, swords grappling in a dance of order and discord. Their movements were synchronized, as if the two understood each other from their many encounters, white lightning meeting black flame as they clashed again and again, flying water veiling them from Hope’s eyes.

He always knew Noel was strong and he knew Noel had become stronger yet, but he did not expect, could not guess, how incredible his strength had become. The shade of the Warrior of Light was merciless, implacable, but for every successful strike, Noel would repay and he would become stronger for it. Pinions of chaos surged around his limbs, blades of shadow echoing his swords, and smoke streamed from his brow, a winged crown. It was a horribly beautiful reminder of which Hope had forgotten: that in this world, Noel was a Guardian of Chaos, and perhaps in any world thereafter.

Hope touched his chest, where he knew Light’s crystal slept. But chaos was not a bad thing, simply another side to Order. Chaos was the well from which humanity drew their strength and passion, and without it, people would stagnate and falter. It was powerful, vastly powerful, because it had no restraints or rules, and that’s what made it dangerous. It knew neither good or evil.

Perhaps the same could be said for the Order that Hope was aligned with. His crystal, after all, was also made from chaos. Maybe Order was simply the tempering of the passion in a human’s heart—rather than an all-consuming power, it was wielded with constraint, like the crystals formed by taming one’s inner chaos.

The battle raged on, both warriors tireless, but Hope lost any fear he may have had as he watched the fight.

A silver light flashed as a sword whirled out of a rain of darklight, driving its blade deep into lagoon floor. The flurry of battle silenced; only the plink of water and Noel’s harsh breaths could be heard.

The Warrior of Light stood before the divan, weaponless, his shield cloven. He had lost his helm, pale hair a halo about his head. Though unarmed, his back was proud and his face calm as he faced his opponent.

Noel lowered the tip of his lance, lithe body relaxing while the streams of chaos melted into nothing. Water dripped from his hair, but he escaped injury. The two stared at each other in silent communication.

Then Cosmos’ Guardian dipped his head once in acknowledgement at Noel’s victory, a radiance suffusing from his body. The pyreflies fluttered off him in clouds of light, leaving behind the shade of a glittering crystal.

Dismissing his weapon, Noel approached the crystal slowly, cradling it between his hands.

“If you hadn’t been so stubborn, you could’ve saved her yourself,” Noel murmured. “You wish hasn’t changed, has it? Not since you asked me, that day.”

It faded away and he bowed his head, fists pressed close to his chest. It might have been a trick of the light to Hope’s eyes, but the wings of Noel’s dark crown flared off into white flame, before it dissipated.

“I’ll protect her where you couldn’t and become her Guardian.”

 

  
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Each face mirrored the gleam of their crystal, held out before them as they celebrated their success. It was only the first step, but an important one; with their crystals in hand, victory seemed less remote. It also made the fact that they’d have to confront a mad Chaos all the more real. Anxiety and hope existed side-by-side in their hearts.

Bartz was the one to suggest a victory dinner—something agreed to quickly by his rumbling belly, followed by a chorus from a few others. Noel’s eyes lit up like a child’s, and Hope had a hard time suppressing a smile at how eagerly he offered to take charge of the preparations. He was almost like his old self now, though there was a hidden gravity to him which often restrained his movements and impulses. Hope didn’t think that’d ever leave, a silent mark of Noel’s trials in this otherworld.

Kain volunteered to assist, and as the two went off in search for prey, the other four cast about for potential supplies. However, that quickly degenerated into Tifa barking orders as the three men scrambled to fulfill her demands. She had more experience managing an event like this, and though she was a hard taskmaster, they managed to gather what was needed.

When Kain and Noel returned, the two looked a bit worse for the wear, and Hope suspected that the two had engaged in a battle unrelated to dinner. Going by the proud strut to Noel’s walk, Hope surmised that the Guardian had won their duel—further confirmed by the brash smooch he planted on Hope’s lips in greeting.

No matter the outcome, the two still managed to find time outside of their personal contest to catch and gather dinner. Tifa and Noel immediately designated an area as a makeshift kitchen, and woe to anyone who dared toe the line. Hope watched from a distance as Noel talked animatedly with Tifa as they worked, the two discussing someone named ‘Cloud’ with shared affection.

It touched Hope how much Noel enjoyed cooking for others and how mealtimes were always his favorite parts of the day. His own family had always been extremely nuclear, lacking close relationships with any extended family, and even then, his father hadn’t been home often during his adolescence. Hope also didn’t make friends easily, sheltering a sensitive heart behind high walls of cool cordiality. So for him, dinner was just dinner. But in Noel’s dying world, mealtimes were the only time for all to gather and reaffirm their connections with each other, and Hope understood why such a mundane event he always took for granted would be so important to Noel.

Sharing a meal with the precious people in one’s life: it was a beautiful celebration of love and family—because tomorrow was uncertain and those people might be gone.

 

  
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While they waited on dinner, Hope found Squall sitting back-to-back with Bartz, chin tucked into his chest as he slept against the mime with arms crossed. Hope fought back a smile; Noel had been right—the two really were good friends, no matter how much they squabbled.

Bartz’s face lit up as Hope approached. “Sit, sit!” He patted the space next to him.

Hope folded himself beside the mime and Bartz ruffled the wayward hairs on his head. “Sorry about what happened to Mogki.”

Absently, Hope brushed off Bartz’s hand, a habit from when he was a teenager dealing with a touchy-feely mime. “It’s all right. Noel believes that if we can defeat Chaos, he might be released from the crystal. So we haven’t lost hope yet.”

“Yeah, but you probably won’t see him again. I mean, if it’s like last time. It was just poof.” Bartz punctuated the sound with wild gesture. “We were whisked back home one by one without even a howdy-do.”

“I think I can live with that, knowing that he returned home free from harm.”

Bartz grinned in agreement.

Hope snapped his fingers suddenly. “Oh yes, I had almost forgotten. I met Zidane’s lingering spirit on our journey.”

“Really?”

Hope nodded. “He asked me to give you and Squall his well-wishes.” Hope smiled nostalgically. “I didn’t know Zidane well, but he was more kind to me than most. He tried to take me on an adventure, but I’m afraid I wasn’t well-suited for that then.”

The mime laughed, throwing back his head. “Man, Zidane was my bestie during those last cycles. I wish I had met him sooner. He’d help me tag-team on Squall here. See, there was this one time…” And Bartz launched into a lively and—Hope suspected—highly exaggerated account of an adventure the trio shared.

Hope couldn’t help but laugh. “You haven’t changed at all, Bartz.”

“Huh? Of course not. The wind is always changing direction—but it’s still the wind.” Bartz nodded sagely.

“So, in other words, the more things change, the more they stay the same?”

“Yup! Like you. You’re all grown up, but you’re still the same sensitive kid with the bad temper I remember.”

“I’m older than you now, you know.” Hope wondered why he had to constantly remind people of this.

Bartz fluffed at Hope’s cowlick. “Bah, you’ll always be a kid to me.”

Hope carefully extracted Bartz’s hand off his person. “I have too many of an adult’s problems to be a child, Bartz.”

“Man, you gotta be careful about that, or you’ll get a worry line like Squall—”

“It’s a _scar_ ,” Squall cut in sourly, startling Hope, who had thought he’d been napping.

“—and then you won’t be so handsome any more. The idea is not to get bogged down by those worries. What’ll happen will happen. It’s how you deal with it that’s important.”

“So you’re not even anxious about the big fight with Chaos?”

“Nah. If we win, great! If we lose, we’ll come up with another plan.” The mime shrugged.

“If we lose, we’ll be dead,” Squall muttered.

“Well, the dead have the least amount of worries ever, so...” Bartz spread his hands with a ‘whatcha gonna do?’ expression.

“Hard to argue that logic,” Hope said with another laugh. “Thank you, Bartz; I’ll keep what you said in mind.”

“No charge.” Bartz paused, and his hazel eyes became uncharacteristically serious. “Just never lose passion for the future, Hope. As long as you remember there’s a tomorrow, today doesn’t seem so bad. The wind is always blowing somewhere.”

Squall burrowed further against Bartz’s back. “Not as stupid as you look.”

“Gee, thanks, Squall. You’re the best.”

 

  
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The limited resources and somewhat meager setting hardly hindered the combined culinary abilities of the two residing chefs, and though the monster and scraggly herbs hardly looked edible going in, the final product was a feast for the senses by even the most strident measures.

“Man, I haven’t had Noel’s cooking in ages!” Bartz eagerly accepted the food given to him, inhaling the warm scent of broiled meat deeply.

Squall raised a brow. “Implying you even remembered it when you left.”

“I remembered it the moment I smelled it.” Bartz rolled his eyes, as if Squall should’ve realized this sooner.

“Despite us never having this dish before?”

“Tifaaaa!” Bartz turned hazel, puppy eyes on the long-suffering woman seated by them. “Help me out here.”

“Oh no,” Tifa said, holding up a hand in refusal. “I know how to pick my battles and you’re on your own with this one.”

“You are a man of many talents,” Kain said when Noel handed him his serving.

“I’m just full of surprises,” Noel replied with a crooked grin. “Unfortunately, I’m taken.”

“Words cannot describe the pity I feel for the one burdened with you.”

Noel pointed at the food. “I can still take that back, you know.”

“Such pettiness would be beneath you, Guardian,” Kain said mildly.

“First time for everything.”

Hope listened to their banter in content. Even though there would be a battle soon—a final battle, as there would be no second chances—everyone was smiling and joking as if it were just a night outing between friends.

In a way, Hope supposed it was. After the battle, whether they won or lost, they would be separated again, with no guarantee of meeting again. And maybe they wouldn’t remember the people they fought and stood with. Perhaps that’s why everyone was enjoying this last dinner, and like Hope, were trying to commit faces and voices to memory. Even if the mind forgot, the heart could still remember such precious moments.

 

  
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Hope woke suddenly, fully alert and tense. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was, wondering why his flat suddenly gained vaulted ceilings and ambient blue lighting. But then everything settled back into his mind and his body loosened with belated acceptance.

He sat up, picking up his coat off the ground. Bartz was snoring softly to his left and Tifa lay curled up with her head pillowed on Kain’s cape a little past the mime. The dragoon was sitting against a pillar, chin tucked against his chest in sleep, lance cradled in an arm. Squall was crouched by the hallway, awake.

Hope rubbed a crick out of his neck. He didn’t see Noel anywhere.

Pulling on his bedraggled coat, Hope stood and approached Squall, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. He found himself peering into the corridor, as if a red pompom would be drooping among the fallen debris. But Mogki was gone, nothing more than a wish.

“Still some time left,” Squall said quietly. “Get some more rest.”

“Where’s Noel?” Hope asked.

Squall’s storm-blue eyes were amused by Hope’s question. “Couldn’t sleep.” He nodded at the faintly glowing dais. “Went up to the inner sanctum.”

“Thank you.” Hope hesitated, rocking on his heels. He felt obligated to take over the watch, feeling far too awake for sleep.

Squall raised a brow. “You’re still here?”

“Er…”

“I can’t sleep either.”

“I suppose we’re all a little anxious.”

“A little of that, but in my case…” Squall thumbed at Bartz’s prone form. “Space hog and clinger. I’ve had enough nights of being his teddy bear. Tifa better be careful—he’s moved four inches in the last twenty minutes.”

Hope smiled. “Did you miss him?”

“I didn’t remember him.”

“But some part of you did, I’m sure. The connections we made here still left an impression on us, even if we can’t recall how it got there.”

Squall grunted noncommittally, but Hope knew he was right. “I wasn’t unhappy to see him—or any of you—again, if that’s what you mean.”

“I was glad to see you too, Squall. And… thanks, for all the times you’ve helped me.”

Squall grimaced, shifting and folding his arms almost defensively over his chest. “I really don’t do these gushy things well, Hope.”

Smiling faintly, Hope shook his head in defeat. “Very well. Then I’ll check up on Noel.”

“You do that,” Squall said with a knowing look.

Hope bobbed his head in embarrassment, heading over to the dais. It still amazed him how more open and frank Squall was now. As a teenager, Hope had first found the reticent young man to be incredibly intimidating, despite being only a couple of years older. If Bartz hadn’t been there, Hope would’ve never willingly spoke to Squall.

But then, it seemed like everyone—sans Bartz, of course—had changed, feeling more comfortable in their own skin. Hope regretted that fate did not allow him to hear their stories; he hoped that someday they would meet again under more auspicious circumstances.

The glyph flared up and after the curtain of water fell away, Hope stepped off the dais into the cool shallows of the Goddess’ Rest. Noel was a dark stain spread on the divan, his hands tucked under his head, facing the clouded heavens. Hope approached as quietly as he could, unsure if the Guardian was asleep, but then violet eyes flicked toward him.

“Am I intruding?”

Noel’s lips twitched, as if the question was too absurd to be acknowledged, and he scooted over on the narrow divan in silent invitation.

Without hesitation, Hope stretched out on his back beside Noel. He turned a searching gaze to the Guardian. “Are you worried?”

“I’d be inhuman to say I wasn’t.”

“Or you’re Bartz.”

“Or I’d be Bartz,” Noel agreed.

Hope wanted to say something encouraging, something wonderfully eloquent and inspiring, just to soothe the serious light in Noel’s face. “We’ll win,” Hope finally settled on, and though he threw all his conviction behind it, the words felt inadequate.

“For me, it’s about more than just winning.” Noel’s eyes studied the unmoving sky. “That Guardian… he asked me to protect his Goddess. But there’s my own oath too. I have to save Chaos.”

“If anyone can do both, it’d be you. You’re not one to do anything halfway.”

Noel flashed a smile at him, head bent close. “I think so too. I’m not doubting myself.” His hand sought out Hope’s between them, lacing their fingers tightly together. “And you’re beside me too. What was it you promised me? That you’d save everyone, even those I want to save?”

“Yes,” Hope said quietly. “And this time I will fight beside you.”

“Thanks, Hope. I’m... really glad I met you. Thank you.”

Hope frowned, unable to meet Noel’s eyes. He felt incredibly self-conscious under their scrutiny, stripped bare and vulnerable, with all his flaws exposed. “What are you thanking me for? I didn’t do anything extraordinary…”

Noel laughed. “You really don’t know how to take gratitude.” His smile softened into something warm but reminiscent. “My grandmother used to tell me that loss was temporary. Even as I lost someone I loved, so would I someday love another. It was pretty hard to believe that. My entire world was my tribe. I was the second to last child born. How could there be more to love when there was only death and no future?

“But she was right. I’ve lost so many important to me: losses that can’t be replaced. But just because they can’t be replaced doesn’t mean I can’t be filled with new love. Loss isn’t forever.

“So that’s why I’m glad I met you.” Noel squeezed Hope’s hand. “Because you did something extraordinary—just by being you.”

Hope resolutely faced the sky, heat igniting at his ears and flaring across his cheeks. “You need to stop doing that,” he muttered after a moment of silence.

“Doing what?”

“Rendering me speechless and incapable of coherent thought.”

Noel laughed, rolling over to sling an arm around Hope, resting his chin against the scientist’s shoulder. His eyes were large and mischievous. “Just by talking? You’re a sap.”

”Says the one waxing sentimental.” Hope was hyper-aware of Noel’s closeness, the edges of Guardian’s leather armor uncomfortable against him. If they were going to nestle together like this, Noel was going to have to address that.

“It’s the truth. I don’t lie.”

“That’s probably why I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything at all.”

Insecure, flustered, smitten, Hope regarded Noel for a long moment with wide eyes, before abruptly tugging him closer to snag his mouth in an inexperienced but ardent kiss, noses bumping. Noel’s lips parted beneath his in silent laughter, fingers tightening into his coat, and Hope had to admit, Noel was probably right. No words really had to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More exposition, bonding, and fluffy angst, but we're moving to the climax so the quiet won't last long.
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading!


	10. act ii. cycle xx. 4

**act ii. cycle xx. 4.**

The mood was somber as they all gathered outside the broken gates of Sanctuary, but the camaraderie from hours before lingered. They all knew what had to be done and they all knew they were in it together.

The flat grey sky was streaked with waves of ash, an artist’s rubbing over heaven’s paper. The air tasted metallic and sulfurous, like brimstone. The land was silent, grimly waiting.

“Chaos has regained his strength,” Noel simply said, and everyone knew they could delay no longer.

The Guardian stepped to the edge of the sea-washed chasm, tendrils of black criss-crossing over the empty space. With a wrench, fingers of chaos blasted through the fabric of space-time, a summoning circle gaping wide before the chasm burst into dark flame.

Bartz yelped, leaping back behind Squall. “What is that?”

Noel looked over his shoulder, darklight glittering in his eyes like blue diamonds. “The edge of discord.”

Hope moved next to Noel, staring into the dark rift of fire. “This isn’t a distortion.”

“No.”

“Hmph.” Kain joined them with Tifa. “So our foe has always been upon our doorstep.”

“Don’t tell me we have to jump into that,” Bartz said, peeking around Squall’s arm.

“You can stay behind if you want,” Noel replied, though he smiled. “But we’d have a hard time without you.”

“Just close your eyes and hold your breath,” Squall said. “I’ll let you know when we hit bottom.”

Bartz made a face and sighed, scooting out from the safety of Squall. “Between you two, it’s hard to say no.”

“So I guess we’re doing this,” Tifa said. She cracked her knuckles and took a deep breath. “Well, ladies first.” She poised herself to spring.

“Wait, wait!” Bartz waved his arms frantically. “Shouldn’t we have, like, some kind of encouraging speech before we go? To fire us up?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Squall pinched the bridge of his nose.

Tifa smiled, a bit wanly. “I’m so wound up right now that I don’t think you could psyche me up any more.”

“That’s why we should have a speech!” Bartz planted his fists on his hips, turning to Noel. “You’re kinda the leader. Any inspirational words to put our hearts at ease blah blah blah?”

“Me?” Noel blinked and shrugged. “Uh… ‘don’t die and let’s win?’”

Kain coughed. “Succinct.”

Noel threw his hands up in the air, pointing at Hope. “Isn’t this your forte?”

“No, I think you covered it fairly well.” The scientist applauded politely. “Bravo, very inspirational.”

“All right, guys!” Bartz fist-pumped and then stuck his hand out. The somber mood had all but lifted, the tension bleeding away from everyone. “You heard him. Don’t die and let’s win.”

Tifa laughed helplessly and rested her palm atop Bartz’s hand. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Are we really doing this gesture of solidarity again?” Squall asked, though he joined in.

“This is not one of my better moments.” But Noel grinned and winked at Hope. “Don’t hold it against me.”

“Minus a million love points,” Hope deadpanned, placing his hand down on Noel’s.

Kain set his hand on top. “However said, the sentiment is accurate.”

“That’s right.” Noel looked at everyone in turn, and each returned his determined stare with one of their own. “It might not be poetic, but I mean it. Let’s all get home safely.”

 

  
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The inside of the rift was not dissimilar to the distortion. Hope felt weightless, a sensation of falling simultaneously down and up. The complete darkness killed any sense of direction; it was like spinning along the currents of a watery abyss to some unknown destination.

They had all held hands and jumped in together, but he had long ago lost his hold on Bartz and Noel, their fingers slipping easily from his own as if they never were there. Without them, he felt detached from his body, the darkness so rich he couldn’t see himself. He tried calling out, but his voice was greedily gobbled up by nothing. Then his limbs grew heavy and he dropped like a stone through eternity.

Suddenly his feet touched something solid and glowing pink glyphs scrawled to life beneath his boots, burning into his night-adjusted vision. He shielded his face, squinting; he recognized the calligraphy etched along the mystic symbols as Etro’s. Light’s crystal had guided him to safety.

The light of the emblem did little to penetrate the darkness. He took a careful step forward, another crest alighting beneath his foot, as if creating something solid for him to walk upon. With nothing to guide him and no idea where to go, Hope began moving onward.

 

  
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The trail of glyphs stretched far behind him. Hope had no idea how long he had been walking in the heavy darkness. He couldn’t even hear his own heart beating and soon he began to wonder if he was even alive.

He prayed the others were all right. He had seen no sign of them; in fact, he had seen no sign of anything, other than the darkness stretching into darkness and the light under his feet. Trapped in this place without anything to engage his senses, his thoughts began to cannibalize themselves in a feast of negativity.

Were the others ensnared as he was? Or was he the only one? Perhaps there was no escape. And even if there was, what then? To face down a dark, terrible god, mad in his power, whom even Noel couldn’t defeat?

“No!” he shouted aloud, though his voice was tiny to his ears. The sound died quickly without an echo, but the act of defiance was enough to turn his thoughts off that self-defeating path.

They had their crystals. Chaos had been defeated before, even when the despair had seemed just as great. They would make another miracle. This would be no different.

And if they won? What then? A sliver of gloom snaked a cold finger around his heart. Would this free Noel? Hope suspected Noel had remained trapped here due to his crystal. The crystal’s protection prevented him from leaving at Chaos’ last defeat; after that, its wishes forced him to remain. Would defeating Chaos return Noel home?

“Even if it doesn’t, I’ll find a way,” Hope told the doubt eating him. “My wish…”

And when Noel returned home, Caius would disappear. The future would be changed and possibly even set free.

The future would be changed…?

Noel’s future…

( _If Noel’s future changes…_ )

A soft chime rang under his next step, the seal suddenly stretching from infinity to infinity. Its gentle radiance lit the featureless darkness and Hope stopped.

A black silhouette wavered in front of him, swallowing the streaks of light emanating from the glyph beneath them. Chaos seethed like a rainbow on oil over the shadow and Hope stepped back, tensing.

Darkness solidified, compressing into arms, legs, torso, head. Black pulled back to reveal color, and he recognized her as when he had met her thirteen years ago. But her eyes were dark pools of shadow and her mouth was erased from her wooden face.

This wasn’t Light and it wasn’t a manikin; Hope gestured and vapors condensed into javelins of ice about him. There was no presence to this shadow, and he realized that was all it was: a shadow of the chaos projected by his own heart. This was why he couldn’t escape this maze of darkness; Light’s crystal had led him here but he had to be the one to conquer it.

A gunblade flashed into the shadow’s hand and it slid forward with inhuman grace.

It fought like her, with a trained agility and tactical aggression, balanced in all types of combat for any situation. Had this been the real thing, Hope might have had a more serious battle on his hands, but this was a mere copy, based off Hope’s image of Light.

Magic clashed with steel; Hope did not hold back, the need to defeat his enemies to protect his loved ones overwhelming him. It became a tangible pain in his heart, and this made him more coldly determined, more focused on the goal. A firestorm swiftly swallowed the shade of Light, the roar of flames popping in his ears. The pain lessened in his chest and Hope pressed a hand to it, inhaling deep.

But then the flames deepened into blue, their flickering dance stilling into frozen waves. Ice shattered and darkness slid out, twisting like putty into Snow’s broad form, blank-faced and hollow-eyed.

Hope eyed this new opponent warily, spreading spheres of fire about him in a protective orbit. Just another projection of his heart, but it didn’t matter what was in his way. He’d never give up; he’d ram through and save everyone, consequences be damned.

The shadow was as impatient and unrefined as the real thing, but Hope’s heart pounded with a stubborn willfulness which drove out any strategy from his brain. The best approach would’ve been to maintain his distance, but he didn’t care, playing close and personal, nothing on his mind but to smash this obstacle down so he could save his friends.

Snow melted into shadow under the intense heat of lightning, a bubbling puddle on the glyph-marked floor. Hope pressed a hand to his forehead, struggling to calm down. The pool of chaos swirled and lumped over each other, solidifying with each wave, and there was his father seated sedately before him. Black eyes watched him blindly behind the glint of its glasses, lipless mouth a thin pencil mark across its unreadable face.

A shuddering breath shook Hope’s frame and he dropped his hold on his magic, stepping back in surprise. This was not what he expected.

A liquid heat seeped from inside his chest through his veins, like he had been injected with an antibiotic, warm but soothing. His mad, impulsive thoughts fell away like leaves in the wind and his single-minded drive to defeat the enemy faded away before the discourse of wisdom and reason.

This shade was another projection of his heart. But these projections were more than just shadows taking the shape of people important to him.

“You are me,” he told the shadow of his father in epiphany, mind clear. “You are a manifestation of the passion in my heart.”

Hope reached out and it was Vanille smiling at him. Its eyes were wells of darkness, but its mouth was human, and its smile was as brilliant as his memories of her. It was just a projection of his heart, his embodiment of happiness, but the effect was still the same and he found himself smiling gently back.

Chaos seeped from pores in its skin, melting away the recognizable form of Vanille, and Hope recoiled, his smile fading. The darkness stretched like taffy, molding into a new shape, and Hope knew the silhouette before color even bled into it.

Hope did not blanch at the shade of Noel standing before him. It made sense to follow happiness with this manifestation. The shadow more closely resembled its living counterpart than the others; its handsome face was whole, eyes bright with an almost purple glint as it reflected the pink light radiating below, mouth parted in a sweet smile.

But the shade drew weapons—black echoes of Noel’s own swords—and chaotic energy swarmed around it. Hope stared it down, making no move to defend himself.

“I won’t deny you,” he said firmly, and the shade rushed forward, gladius passing through Hope’s heart without piercing flesh. There was no pain and Hope wrapped his arms tight around the shade, wondering why he felt he had to be shy about love, holding himself back from giving to others that they gave so freely to him.

But it was not Noel he was holding. This form was smaller and a scent he had not known for over a decade tickled his nose and squeezed his heart. He drew back, holding the shade of his mother by the arms, and its smile was empathetic and nurturing.

Its slim hands brushed hair from his face, green eyes exuding pride at how he had grown. But Hope only made it this far because of his mother. No, not just his mother, but his father, and his friends, and all the people he loved… they took care of him, allowing him to mature into the adult he was now.

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. It was only a projection of his heart, but the shade was so akin to his memories of his mother that it hurt. His heart ached and chaos swept over her. A child’s stifled sob hiccuped through the darkness and the chaos fell away. Hope slowly knelt down, placing hesitant hands on the new shade’s trembling shoulders. It was crying, choked sounds which racked its slim body, as if it was trying to hide its pain.

Hope had never outwardly cried during those years. He kept his grief bottled up; at first there had been no time to cry and then he just simply couldn’t. He numbed himself to loss through school and work; while he didn’t pretend everything was okay, he didn’t allow himself to think it wasn’t. Even when his father had finally passed he did not mourn; he only felt like the last string binding him to the world had been cut loose, freeing him to drift. They called him an automation during those two fevered years at the Academy’s university; maybe they were right. He had been afraid to feel, despite the compassion he held for others, because feeling hurt him in ways he couldn’t cope with.

He watched the shade of his fourteen-year-old self shamefully hide tears behind small hands.

“It all started back then, didn’t it?” Hope asked quietly, his voice clear. He carefully pulled the shadow’s hands from its face; red-rimmed green eyes flicked away from his steady gaze. “When your mother died. That was the first time you ever felt that kind of helplessness—the lack of your own strength. The first time you realized the world was unfair and devoured the weak. If had you been stronger, would she have died trying to protect you?

“You were at the wrong place at the wrong time and you lost your mother. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time and you became cursed. Suddenly all you knew was fear and anger and helplessness and all you could do was blame your fate—blame your powerlessness.

“So you turned to others, to lean on their strength.

“And even though you relied on them, like they were beasts of burden, you discovered your own strength through them. Because you found that you loved them, and you remembered how you once lost what you loved because you lacked strength. So you had to become strong, because even as you leaned on them, you couldn’t lose them.

“The world is unfair and devours the weak. There will always be fear and anger and loss. But that is why I must persevere. I _am_ strong. I’ve gained it through the people I love, and as I rely on them, they’re relying on me. When they falter, I will be there, and when I falter, they will lift me onto my feet.

“This is the strength we gained together.”

Hope rested a comforting hand on the boy’s pale head. Serious green eyes turned up to him, believing, and Hope smiled, drying tears from its face with gentle fingers. He cherished all those people he loved, the ones that made him happy, and with the wisdom he gained, he would save and protect them all.

No matter his fear and doubts, or perhaps because of them.

He was _strong_.

Hands snagged his and between one blink and the next, the shadow of his young self morphed into another boy entirely. Hope did not recognize this colorless, sickly child, white haired and red-eyed, staring at him with a rapt fascination. Its eyes glinted with a fey light, similar to Noel’s when he sank into the power of chaos.

“Is this strength?” the child asked. “Is this hope?”

A crown of flames erupted upon the boy’s head and Hope fell back. Tendrils of chaos snaked around the boy and sliced into too-pale skin, bleeding out fire. A wild revelation hit Hope hard, and he remembered how long ago, Noel had been upset when Hope called Chaos evil.

This was the reality of the dark god of discord, Hope realized, and now he understood why Noel was so determined to save Chaos.

The flames consumed the boy’s frail body, sweeping down along the glyph’s script. It snaked under Hope’s hands, but he felt no heat. A deep bell tolled head-splittingly loud from below, and Hope slapped his hands to his ears with a loud cry. Warm palms slid over his eyes from behind, blotting out the light, and he jerked upright.

[ _Please end his pain._ ]

Cosmos’ voice was like cool rain misting through the turmoil of his mind. The hands slid away from his face and he saw his friends standing around him, looking about in confusion.

Dazed, Hope stood. The darkness was now like a moonlit night, the source of radiance unknown. Light’s glyph was gone, but the black was solid under his feet.

“How did I... get here?” Bartz was the first to speak, scratching his head, puzzled. “There was some weird kid…”

“Yeah...and I heard Cosmos,” Tifa added, just as puzzled. She shook her head, clasping her crystal close to her chest. “Is everyone all right?”

Squall drew forth his crystal, its pale light casting soft shadows onto his face as it shimmered sweetly with a new light. “Looks like we passed some sort of test.”

Hope quickly glanced around. Someone was missing. “Where’s Noel?”

“Perhaps he had not conquered his trial yet?” Kain answered, but the dragoon sounded doubtful.

The scientist shook his head. “It wouldn’t make sense for Noel to have a trial. The chaos in his heart is unfettered. It’s just a theory, but I surmise that’s why we have crystals—”

“I can’t believe you’re going into Explain Mode right now,” Bartz cut in, shaking his head and resting a hand on his brow in a dramatic pose of forbearance. “We’re kinda at the rest point before the final battle, so don’tcha think a lecture—”

Suddenly, the darkness before Bartz ripped open, a monstrous tail whipping through to smash into the mime. The other four reacted slowly, dulled by surprise, but the appendage abruptly met ghostly twin steel, curved blades slicing upwards to bite into tough skin.

The empty darkness flickered like a candle and flames scrawled along it from the tear in space, burning it away like paper. A vast planescape was revealed around them, a fire-eaten land belching smoke into a thunderhead-drowned sky weeping meteors of flame. A broken stair, pockmarked and gutted, let up to a great dais high above, where darkness and fire clashed.

Bartz stared in amazement at his savior, the specter flashing him a cocky grin, his tail twitching. “Zidane!” The specter saluted and flickered from sight. His crystal hovered by Bartz’s side, circling him once cheerfully.

Hope started forward. If Zidane’s crystal was here, that meant—

“Watch out!” Tifa cried out, as a blast rocked the dais above, boulders crashing down.

“Noel must be fighting up there!” Hope flung aside debris with a compressed ball of wind.

A giant fireball arched out and slammed into the blackened earth past them. A great shadow of smoke and flame soared up from the dais, wingspan blotting the boiling sky with a curtain of flame. Orange light stretched between the god’s many hands and he hurled liquid fire down onto the platform, pulverizing it straight to its base.

“Noel!” Hope shouted, as Kain jerked the scientist away from the raining rubble.

A figure nimbly leapt downward from crumbling rock to crumbling rock, easily escaping the maelstrom of rock and fire. Relief washed over Hope as the Guardian landed safely in their midst. Hope ran up to him, running worried hands over him, and then punched him in the arm for making Hope worry in the first place.

Noel winced, before smiling sheepishly. He was covered in soot and ash, and a nasty burn ate through the skin on his neck and cheek, glistening red. Hope immediately applied a healing spell to it, but Noel caught his hand, shaking his head. Lines of chaos crisscrossed over the wound, grafting the skin and healing it as good as new.

Hope stared at him; was this an evolution of Noel’s immortality, to regenerate even minor wounds? The Guardian’s eyes were purple with the light of chaos and Hope didn’t think Noel was even approaching the limits of his power.

He squeezed Hope’s hand reassuringly before gently pushing him aside to wildly grin at the others. “Glad you all could finally make it.”

Squall drew his gunblade, slinging it onto his shoulder. He glanced at the dark god in the sky. “You looked like you had it under control.”

“Won’t refuse any help though, if you feel like having a little fun.”

“Is now the time for jesting?” Kain asked mildly, loosening his wrists.

Noel smirked and Hope turned his head, sensing a change in the air. A faint breeze sifted through, carrying with it the slightest hint of ozone, undermining the stink of sulfur. He quickly summoned Light’s crystal and it gleamed with a gentle, pulsating light.

Tifa and Squall blinked down at theirs, light shining between their fingers in response.

“Whoa, mine too! And Zidane!” Delighted, Bartz glanced back and forth between his crystal and the one floating beside him.

“We’re all gathered together at the appointed place,” Noel explained, as Kain held out his own gleaming crystal in question. “They know their purpose.”

An earth shattering bellow shook the heavens. They all glanced up. Chaos screamed wordlessly at them, slavering like a mad dog. The small but steady lights of the crystals agitated him and recklessly he stormed a hail of hellfire upon them. Their crystals flared in response, a blinding white light, and the rain of fire splashed onto an invisible dome over their heads, spraying harmlessly away.

Noel opened his palm and a tiny spark snapped to life, flaring into the shape of Hope’s crystal star. More tiny sparks sizzled around it, seven in all, swirling into the crystals of their friends.

“Ah!” Bartz jumped as ZIdane’s crystal zipped by him to join its brethren. His own crystal slipped out of his loosened fingers, spiraling above him.

The smooth surface of Light’s crystal slid out of Hope’s hand, and he watched it rise with the others. All thirteen pulsed in accord with each other.

As the rain of fire sizzled into the ground, there came a deep rumble, far below in the bowels of the diseased earth. The geysers stopped spitting smoke and the land rolled, struggling against a hidden pressure, and it was all Hope could to do remain on his feet. When the earth could not contain the pain any longer, fissures split open across its face with a thunderous crack, and water spewed forth, a silver-blue blood spreading over parched skin.

It rolled over flames, quenching their light into hissing steam, swallowing the falling meteors with an inhuman hunger. Chaos howled at the water christening his destruction, but as the steam and fog drifted high, the wind rose, shredding smoke and black clouds into a silver sky. White mist dropped like a veil and Chaos swatted at it in confused agony, a child in a fever dream. Steam rose from his limbs as his fire dampened.

Hope lifted his hands to let the cool drizzle pool in his gloved palms, turning his face up to the sweet wind parting through the humidity. The sky was the same as the one which hung over Sanctuary and he wondered if this sky belonged to some place special.

Warm water lapped over the feet of the six companions. Nothing could be seen any longer of the burned earth; a cleansing lake reflecting the silver clouds rippled as far as the eye could see. Great black rock jutted from its mirror-like surface, still steaming, shells of the meteor rain.

Hope glanced over at Noel, and the Guardian’s head was bent over the crystal star, eyes closed as if in prayer. A single crystal still orbited it, its light shimmering with each spin, and the reflection off the misty rain gave the illusion of an armored warrior facing Noel, gauntleted hands raised in benediction, a crown of swords upon his brow. Noel’s own crown blazed once in response, smoky wings flaring off into white.

The rain stopped and Chaos howled.

But his flame did not answer.

“He’s been weakened,” Noel said, and the others turned to him. His fey gaze was now on his dark god. Hope had trouble reading his expression.

Light’s crystal floated down to Hope, joined by two others. He recognized them and smiled to himself, reaching out to brush them in greeting: the one to watch over him and the one to help him protect all he loved, aided by one who wished for his happiness.

Chaos whirled to them, his four fists clenched tight. His eyes still burned with flame, feral and unseeing. He only knew that the warriors below were responsible for his pain, and as a child would seek to repay like with like, so did Chaos cling to blind retribution. His great wings rose up and with a mindless frenzy, he charged at the group below with deadly speed, desiring only to hurt and destroy.

But they were not unprepared. Tifa’s crystal flared and she rushed forward past the group. A second crystal circled around her, and the specter of a young woman with long ears stood back to back with her as they halted Chaos’ onslaught with their fists.

This spurred the others into action, and they fanned out around Chaos to join the fray; the specters of their comrades aiding them when needed. With absolute certainty, Hope knew this mirrored the first battle against Chaos, and just as that one had ended, so would this one. Pity filled him as Chaos struggled; the mad god grew more confused and desperate with each sword bite and magic spell, attacking blindly and at-will, with no regard for himself or his foes.

_‘Is this strength? Is this hope?’_ The lesson was merciless.

With a last desperate burst of weakened fire, Chaos soared up out of reach, roaring. Hope fancied he could hear the cries, “Mother! Father!”

Chaos tried to escape on his crippled wings, streaming dark blood, but then Kain plummeted from the heavens and drove his lance deep into Chaos’ back, the momentum of his dive smashing the god into the water-drowned earth.

Liquid rose up in shining waves, as Kain landed safely away, tall and straight. Chaos screamed, half-rising, scrabbling for the lance protruding from his back. Unable to reach it, he crouched down on all fours and roared, frothing at the mouth. But the all too human pain in his weeping eyes struck Hope and he found he could not move to settle a deathblow on the god.

Squall glided to attack, not inhibited by such compassion, but it was Noel who moved before the feral Chaos, unarmed save only for his two crystals. The light of the Guardian of the Goddess’ crystal sparked blindingly bright, the specter of the Warrior of Light stepping forth from its essence. The specter saluted once and Chaos raised an enraged claw to slash Noel to ribbons.

Noel did not look away and Hope knew that Noel could not kill the one he wished to save. But he still had the wish of the Warrior of Light to fulfill, and Hope turned his head away at the final blow, perceiving the cruelty he had forced Noel to bear.

A choked cry bubbled from Chaos’ maimed body and he collapsed into the shadows as the Warrior of Light withdrew his shining blade, broken wings settling over him like a shroud. The dark god lay still, except for the faint rise and fall of his dying breath.

The crystals of the specters snuffed into nothing, like candle flames blown out. The Warrior of Light turned a clear gaze on Noel, who stared back impassively, and then he too was gone.

Bartz hopped down by Squall, wiping at a cut on his cheek. “Did we win?”

Squall’s mouth was a grim line. It was a victory, but it was not sweet.

Hope quietly approached Noel, who was staring down at the gasping Chaos.

A dimmed eye stared back, filmed with recognition. “...I know you, my... Guardian,” Chaos rasped.

Noel’s fists balled at his sides, but he met that hollow gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“My wish…”

“I’ll see to it. Just… rest.”

Chaos said nothing more, eyes closing and the monstrous visage smoothing with the comfort of oblivion.

Noel’s shoulders dropped with the weight of a million cares, and Hope pressed a hand to the small of the Guardian’s back in silent comfort. Tensing, Noel’s head swiveled toward him before recognizing him. He smiled half-heartedly, leaning over to bump his forehead onto Hope’s.

The remaining crystals pulsed as one with a hidden heartbeat, their light curling down onto their bearers like powdery snow.

“Looks like we’re being sent back,” Squall said, turning his hands over as motes of light effused from them.

Bartz threw himself at him. “You better not forget me! And you can’t get any older. I have to catch up!”

Squall’s smile was brief but genuine, and he ruffled Bartz’s hair in affection. “No more falling off cliffs,” he said and then he was gone.

Tifa fist-bumped with Kain, sparks fluttering off her. “Remember what I told you.”

“Indeed.”

She winked at Noel. “I’ll tell Cloud you said hi.”

Noel grinned. “I doubt he remembers me.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” She waved in farewell, her light fading into the sky.

“It was so great seeing everyone again. And Hope!” Bartz grabbed Hope’s hand. His hazel eyes colored gold as his body also took on his crystal’s glow. “Try not to get any worry lines, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” Hope promised, squeezing Bartz’s hand as it slipped from his grasp.

Kain gazed at Noel and Hope in silence as the light took him. The shadow of his smile was his farewell.

“And then there were two.” Hope gazed down at himself. Pyreflies were slowly flaking off him, a faint aura outlining his body as Light’s crystal sought to send him back to their homeworld. “It’ll be good to return home.”

“Mm.”

Hope smiled at Noel. “Hopefully we’ll remem… Noel?” His smile wavered and slid off his face. No aura surrounded Noel; the Guardian was watching him with somber eyes.

Noel sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t go back yet.”

Hope reached out to grab Noel’s arm. “Why--” he bit off his words as his fingers slipped through Noel’s limb. Desperate, he clutched at his chest. “No, let me stay!” he pleaded with Light’s crystal. “I can’t leave him alone again…!”

“What you needed to do is done.”

“What I… needed to do?” Hope repeated, uncomprehending. “What about you?”

“Still some things I have to do here. I need to see Chaos’ wish through. It’s the least I can do after I betrayed him.”

So his crystal once again anchored Noel in this otherworld, even if Noel was willing.

“And what about my wish?” Hope tried to cup Noel’s face in his hands, but the crystal’s radiance had consumed his flesh. He could feel nothing.

“Your wish?” Noel tilted his head. “With that new Cocoon of yours, you’ll save my future—and you’ll save everyone, including those I want to save.”

Hope stared at him and then it dawned on him that Noel didn’t know. Noel had never heard his wish...

The Guardian smiled, and Hope hated it. Noel said he never lied, but he lied everyday with his face and voice and he never realized it and Hope hated it.

‘That’s not what I wished for,’ he tried to say, but by then he had nothing to say it with. Noel was still talking, though the words had no ears to reach, and as Hope’s vision dimmed he saw Noel’s lips moving very clearly through his smile.

save my future  
and  
i love you  
and  
good-bye

  
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_(It all started because of a wish.)_

_(I wanted to save everyone.)_

_‘So I don’t like being alone. I’m afraid of being left alone.’_

_(But even more deeply, I promised myself I wouldn’t let that happen.)_

_(... please… this selfish wish…)_

The lights swam in his eyes and someone was shouting his name. He was resting on a flat surface, moving rapidly; a cacophony buzzed both in and out of his head.

Pain throbbed in his chest, muted by the warmth of healing light. His eyes rolled and he tried to orient himself. His body was as heavy as lead but hands still restrained him.

“... Noel…” he rasped. He was back, wasn’t he? He was back and he remembered—

“Hope!” A gloved hand lightly slapped his cheek. “You’re gonna be okay, kid. Just keep breathing.”

Everything was a blur, but he did as he was told. It seemed like a good idea. Snow never had a lot of them, but this was a good one.

“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner. But better late than never, huh?”

Hope closed his eyes; he couldn’t take the light any more. “If this is late…” He took a deep breath and the pain shoved hard against the curative magic. “... I’d hate to see never.”

Someone ordered Snow aside and the gurney was lifted up.

**end act ii.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never, ever want to write a chapter like this again, ugh...
> 
> The next chapter might be a day late due to work obligations. My apologies.
> 
> Commentary always welcome. Thanks for reading!


	11. act iii. unknown

**act iii. unknown**

Serah drew back the ghostly strings of her bow, her hands steady as she aimed directly between Caius’ eyes. She wasn’t afraid of him. Her sister was fighting this man--Serah couldn’t afford to be afraid. Even if he was someone Noel knew, Serah didn’t have the luxury to hesitate. Noel would have agreed.

Noel. She knew Caius’ words about her friend’s fate were lies and that what she saw was an illusion. Noel would never give into him.

Caius smirked, closing his eyes; a dare for her to shoot, a dare for her to struggle against her fate. It was a dare she didn’t hesitate to take and she released the arrow in a fluid motion.

The ghostly dart pierced through the air, the aim true, and Serah suddenly cried out in shock because that wasn’t Caius seated upon the crystal throne. Violet eyes stared down the arrow, unseeing.

“Noel!” she screamed, her bowsword clattering to the ground.

With inhuman reflexes, Noel slid down in his seat, his head tilting back as the arrow whizzed right over his nose. The dart buried itself deep into the back of the crystal throne, strands of dark hair dangling from it.

He tumbled gracelessly onto the hard stone ground, blinking wide at the immaterial arrow still quivering in its crystal sheath.

“Noel…? Is that… really you?” Serah took a hesitant step forward, wondering if this was another trick by Caius. Noel whipped his head to her, staring at her in lost confusion, like he couldn’t place who she was. He wore armor, reminiscent of Caius’, but he looked largely like Noel—except that his eyes were ancient, as if their time apart had been years upon years and not just a few hours.

With a marionette’s jerk, he got to his feet and staggered toward her, hand outstretched, callused fingers brushing her cheek. “...Serah…” he breathed and his whole frame shuddered before he fell to his knees as his emotion overwhelmed him. “I… remember you…” and he bowed his head and wept.

“N-noel!” Startled, Serah dropped down to him, wondering if the vision she saw of Caius stabbing Noel had been true after all. She touched his shoulder with one hand and brushed hair away from his face with the other, peering at him with wide-eyed concern. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

He just shook his head, before he laughed through his tears and hugged her fiercely. “I remember you, Serah.” His scent and warmth were familiar and her heart cried out in relief; this was no trick—this was definitely Noel, her partner.

“I’d be hurt if you forgot me,” she squawked through the bone-crushing hug. He squeezed her even further, burying his face in her hair, and Serah wondered what had happened to him. “There’s no one else I can count on but you,” she added and hugged him back.

“I know; I’m sorry, I got lost,” he murmured, almost rambling. Serah’s fingers tightened their grip on him; it was unlike Noel to talk so carelessly. “It took so long, but I remember you now.”

 

 

 

  
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Noel watched the last of the pyreflies fade into the silver firmament before turning away. The silent solitude was familiar and unwanted. He didn’t even have the comforting weight of Mogki on his shoulder or head now. This dream was truly empty.

He left the edge of discord by distortion, but he did not return to Sanctuary.

The cave was unmarked and unnoticeable. Chaos had hungered to slay the Goddess and so time and time again he had encroached upon Sanctuary only to find her Guardian. She had long been spirited away to safety: Noel’s fulfillment of a dying warrior’s wish.

The magic which had sealed the cave from entry were gone, but Noel was not concerned. Chaos was dead and the cycles broken. There would be no harm to the Goddess now. Deep inside its darkened tunnels lay her chamber of rest; it was lit with the light of many blue will-o-wisps, fluttering around an earthen dais.

The Great Will was waiting for him before that hidden chamber. The aura of the entity’s presence was a heaviness in the air, like the gathering of stormclouds before the rainfall. Noel paused only to ask, “Is she awake?”

[ _Yes._ ] The deep baritone vibrated inside his head, slow and grave. Noel could feel its hesitation. [ _Thank you._ ]

Noel supposed the Great Will was thanking him for saving the Goddess; or for saving the Great Will itself; or for freeing Chaos; or maybe just for breaking the cycles so they could escape this prison.

But he found he couldn’t bring himself to care what the gratitude was for. He had been used, and his friends had been used. The gratitude was meaningless because he never had a choice.

Noel just wanted to wake up from this dream.

The Goddess’ slim, white hands were folded in her lap as he approached, silver-blue eyes unreadable.

“Still here?” he asked. The cycles were broken, and the Goddess no longer needed to be a Goddess. “Go home; it’s the least your Great Will can do for you.”

The Goddess shook her head. “I have no home, Noel Kreiss. I will remain here, a steward to this world.”

“There’s nothing here.”

“I am here,” she said simply and Noel couldn’t refute that.

“Are you done using me?” he asked instead. The question wasn’t harsh or accusatory. He was just stating the truth. “I have people I need to help back home. They’re waiting.”

“You still have hope in your heart.”

“I’m not the type to just give up and die.” Noel stabbed a finger at her. “Maybe that’s something you should think about. Suffering as atonement is the exact opposite of those who wished you freedom want. There’s nothing noble about it.”

“You have much kindness for one you hold in contempt.” A half-smile, lifted by self-derision, played about her lips.

Noel folded his arms over his chest. “You have it wrong. I don’t feel any of that. I did what I had to do.”

“More so. To fulfill those wishes, you have surpassed what was expected of you.” She lowered her eyes. “I am sorry I have used you in this way.”

“No. You should be sorry you used Hope this way.” A crooked smile flicked at the corner of his mouth. “He’s probably hating himself right now cause he thinks this crystal is his fault. So that’s the person you should apologize to if you’re looking to make yourself feel better.”

Her shoulders bent and her head bowed. “Your words are a bitter medicine to receive.”

Noel shrugged. “If you’re done with me, I want to go home.”

The Goddess nodded. “Yes. Your homecoming is long overdue. Whether you welcome my apology or no, at least accept my gratitude.”

“That Guardian wished to save you.” Noel’s voice was low. “And Chaos… he knew you weren’t his mother, but he loved you in her stead. Your gratitude should go to them, who died for you.”

“I see,” she said slowly. “Then what will you accept?”

“Your happiness.” Noel held up a hand to stay her question. “Not because I wish for it, but because Hope wished to save everyone. Everyone happens to include you, and that Great Will of yours, despite all the crap you put us through. So find that happiness and show it to me someday, and I’ll accept it.”

She closed her eyes and inclined her head. “Happiness. Is that possible for one such as I?”

“That’s for you to decide,” Noel replied.

 

 

 

  
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It was only a small feat to break the trap Caius had trapped them in, manipulating the flow of chaos to reverse from the Void Beyond toward the Unseen Realm. Noel didn’t want to admit he had been afraid that Serah would recoil from his rapport with chaos, but relief flowed through him all the same when she followed him without hesitation through the distortion he had created.

As they stepped out of the waves of chaos onto an empty, silent beach, Noel felt a shift ripple through his limbs, sparking along his nerves to quiver once in his heart.

The box had been opened, and the reality within observed. From Valhalla he could see everything; from Valhalla, his sight released the timeline from its limbo.

The reality was his. Caius was dead. Noel supplanted him as Guardian.

He didn’t know how to feel now, despite all the years that had passed in between.

“Kupokupokupopo!” With a burst of sparks, Mog spun into existence beside Serah and she cried aloud in delight, snagging the moogle into a strong embrace.

Noel watched the two reunite with an abstract smile, ignoring the absence of that familiar weight on his head. He believed Mogki was restored to its homeworld; he wished he had had a chance to say good-bye.

“Noel, this place…” Serah held Mog tightly as she turned around to take in the dead land bathed in shadow. In the distance, the outline of a fantastic metropolis stained the horizon. “I saw this place in my dream. Is this Valhalla?”

Noel nodded.

Serah whirled on him, earnest. “My sister! Is Lightning here?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I’m sure we’ll find her.”

Emotion rimmed her eyes and she squeezed Mog tighter. “She’s been fighting here… But it’s hard to believe, this place is so … empty.” Not even the wind stirred.

“Well, the battle’s probably over.”

“What?”

“Serah,” Noel began and he took one of her hands between both his own. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”

She raised a brow at him, eyes troubled by his tone. “Okay…”

As they followed the twisting, quiet shores toward the dead city, Noel told her everything. From his victory over Caius and his entrapment in that other dream, about his endless wanderings and the people he met, he held nothing back. He told her about Mogki, about Kain and Cloud and the people who touched his life, and he told her about Hope.

“You’ve really been through a lot.” Serah twisted her hands behind her back, swinging a foot in front of the other. Mog bobbled alongside her with a sympathetic look.

Noel tipped his head back to the blank slate sky, throat dry from recounting all that had happened in that other dream. He was drained but felt lighter. “Story of my life. And it’s not even over yet.”

Serah offered a smile. “You know,” she said light-heartedly, “back on Cocoon, you wouldn’t even be legal to drink alcohol yet.”

“You have laws for that?” But he smiled in return, grateful for her cheer. “You’ve gone through a lot too.”

“Maybe this will be the last of it for both of us. I mean… you took Caius’ place, right? That’s why you said the battle’s probably over.”

“Something… like that.” The good mood faded from Noel’s eyes. “Serah, you haven’t had any visions since coming here, right?”

She shook her head.

“This place exists outside Time, so there’s no timeline to view here but… there’s no guarantee you won’t experience it when you leave this place.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The visions might kill you, Serah.” Noel’s voice was hard. “Any time the timeline alters and you have a new vision… it saps your life. That’s why Yeul...”

“I’ll die…?” She pressed her hands to her mouth in dismay. Mog buzzed around Serah in agitation.

“You can… stay here.” Unseen, Noel’s hands fisted briefly. It was hard to deny the faint desire in his heart that she would agree. “That’ll guarantee that any changes that might happen won’t affect you.”

“But if Caius is gone, the future won’t change, will it?”

“You never know… The future is uncertain. It might be strange for me as a Farseer to say that, but you’ve seen how fluid Time can be, how our miracles can alter it from beginning to end. The future’s not written in stone.”

Serah bit her lip, wringing her hands as she considered. “Noel, I… can’t live my life on something unknown like that. If I always lived in fear of what _may_ happen, I’d never leave my bed. I can’t stay here. What about Snow and my sister and everyone waiting for us…? I want to see them all again. I want to _be_ with them again, even if it’s a short while.”

Conflicted, Noel looked at her long, but then he finally sighed and grinned. “I knew you’d say something like that.”

She made a face at him. “If you knew that, why’d you bring it up?”

“I wanted to hear it.” His smile softened. “It just makes me more sure.”

“Sure of what?”

“That everything will be fine.” If Serah noticed the muted sorrow in his smile, she didn’t mention it.

 

 

 

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He had actually suspected long ago, before the other dream even happened, what would occur if his future was saved. Yet as long as everyone was happy, he believed he could accept his fate gracefully.

Obtaining the Heart of Etro was a blessing and a curse, and he understood now the torment that Caius suffered.

He would continue to exist as a paradox, but at the cost of everything he cherished.

 

 

 

  
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“Oh, it’s beautiful.” Serah’s hands hovered over the star-shaped crystal, its tiny light tinting her hands almost gold. “This is Hope’s? It feels so warm.”

“Yeah.” Noel rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “It used to be much brighter. Now there’s just a couple of wishes left.”

“Wishes?”

“That’s just what we call its power. You can ask Hope how it works since he’s the one who made it.”

“And he gave it to you.” She ran the very tips of her fingers over the star’s points, like it was a fragile glass-blown work of art she shouldn’t touch. “He must really love you.”

“Yeah, well, I guess…” Noel cleared his throat, roughing up his hair. “I mean, I’m not saying that’s not true… Er, that is. You know.” He made a face, cheeks tinting.

Serah’s lips lifted into a devious tilt. “Since when are you so shy?” She folded her hands behind her back, leaning over to peer up at him. “So what are you going to do when you see him again?”

Noel wagged a finger at her, not to be overcome by her teasing. “What are _you_ going to do when you see Snow again?” he shot back.

Her smile widened. “After he gets a proper welcome, I think I’ll spend some time berating him for charging off headlong like that. He’s my hero, but I think I’ve become a pretty good heroine myself, wouldn’t you say?”

Noel laughed. “I’d say. Did Snow know about that temper of yours before or after you started going together?”

“It’s very important you establish your expectations at the start,” Serah said primly and Noel wondered if maybe Snow might be a bit of a masochist. “If they don’t run away, then you work from there.”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “Guess Hope’s the same way. I’m worried he’s hurt, he punches me in the face. I tell him I love him, he kicks me in the leg.”

Serah’s smile dimmed, her eyes gentle. “I’m pretty jealous.”

“What, you want me to be your practice target too?” He stared at her, incredulous.

“No, silly,” and she giggled, “just that I wasn’t there for you like Hope was. We’re partners, but I couldn’t help you.”

Noel shook his head. “It’s better this way. If you had gone to that dream too, who knows what could’ve happened? We would’ve been on opposite sides.”

“I would’ve remembered you; I know I would.”

“I’m not saying you wouldn’t…” Noel turned Hope’s crystal over in his hands, shame-faced. “But I did forget you. Not at first… and I remembered a bit when Hope was first there, because he reminded me of you—that same determination. But later, after all those years… I just forgot. I think it was a way of protecting myself… I knew I had to help you, but I didn’t know who you were.”

“That’s why you said you remembered me,” Serah realized, suddenly somber. “Noel, I’m sorry.”

He quickly flashed a placating smile at her. “I’m here now and we’re together again. Everything’s going to be all right.” He spun the crystal on a finger and its facets flashed in the dim twilight. “That’s what this is here for. My wish and Hope’s wish are all that remains.”

“Right. You wished to save your future.”

“Yeah. And Hope’s was to save everyone.”

Serah’s brow crinkled and she cocked her head, as if listening to something. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Noel replied, blinking at the question. “He told me so himself; he promised to save everyone, including everyone I wanted to save. This crystal was born from that promise.”

Serah’s eyes flicked from the crystal to Noel, a frown slowly pulling at her mouth. That drew a frown onto Noel’s own, and an inkling of doubt dribbled over him.

“What is it, Serah?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s nothing.” She smiled faintly. “You’re right. Between those two wishes, I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”

 

 

 

  
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_‘It’s selfish, but wishes are selfish.’_

_‘Maybe they’re selfish, but that doesn’t make them bad.’_

 

 

 

  
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They slowed as they approached the sprawling edge of the silent city. There was no sign of battle, no lurking danger. But a tall, strong silhouette stood alone in the swaying sea, face turned to the beach, gazing past them expectantly.

“Is that—” Serah half-started forward, Mog at her side to be transformed into her bowsword. “How…?”

“Wait.” Noel thrust out an arm to stop her.

“Noel?”

He shook his head.

Dressed in loose, traditional Farseer garb, Caius seemed less imposing. The hard lines on his face were gone, making him look younger, more gentle. His eyes held dreams and a fresh hope.

Swiftly, a young woman darted past Serah and Noel, black hair streaming behind her like a fanned bird’s wing. Pale feet tread lightly through the softly rolling waters and Caius opened his arms to her.

“Noel, is that…?” Serah trailed off in wonder.

“Yeul. The original one.” Noel watched their reunion, an ache in his heart. “Cursed with immortality, Caius could never be with her in the afterlife. So Etro granted her eternal rebirth for her soul, so she could be with him, the Guardian who gave up everything to protect her. But she was doomed to die from Etro’s blessing, only to be reborn as someone not quite the same, while Caius could only watch and wait and reconnect. But Fate’s cruel dance for them can finally end.”

“... because you inherited Etro’s Heart…”

Noel nodded. He felt Serah’s eyes on him, full of pity, and he swallowed hard the lump in his throat. Hope had been stronger and Noel was grateful for that; he could imagine all too well the same despairing madness overtaking him if he had been forced to bear Hope’s death in countless cycles.

The ghosts of hundreds of Yeuls stood in the water with the pair as the Ocean of Chaos opened up to return them to Etro’s bosom. But one shade turned to them and Noel jerked forward, running into the sea without thinking.

This Yeul— _his_ Yeul, he recognized her, even if she looked similar to the countless others, he _knew_ her—smiled oh-so-faintly at him. He could hear Serah calling for him as he splashed toward her.

“We’ll meet again,” she echoed those last words to him and his fingers closed frantically over air as she melted into the water.

He stood there, staring at the vast emptiness spread before him, waves rocking gently against his calves. What did she see that made her so sure, so content to leave?

“Noel?”

Serah’s voice broke his dazed trance. Noel shook his thoughts from his head, rubbing at the moisture on his cheeks with his arm; it was just the spray of the ocean. When he returned to Serah, his steps weren’t as heavy as he thought they’d be.

Serah’s eyes were large with concern and he smiled at her in reassurance.

“Maybe someday I’ll meet Yeul again,” he said quietly, “but for now, it’s good-bye. I can’t keep holding onto what I’ve lost, when I have what I gained in front of me.”

He took Serah’s hand. “Come on. The timeline is correcting itself. With Caius gone, Lightning should be free.”

Her answering smile was brilliant, and any strands of lingering regret over Caius’ death drifted away. Being a Guardian was a blessing and a curse, but he could live with that if it meant Serah would always smile like this. “That’s right. She wouldn’t have to protect Etro any more.”

“I’m sorry, Serah. This is what I should’ve done from the start.”

“He was your friend,” she protested. “No one wants to kill someone important to them.”

“I could’ve prevented a lot of grief if I did.”

“Then we wouldn’t have met—or you wouldn’t have met Hope.”

“Heh.” Noel scratched his cheek, embarrassed. “Not going to let me feel sorry for myself, are you?”

“It doesn’t suit you,” Serah said, squeezing his fingers. “Right, Mog?”

[That’s right. Noel’s the best when he’s not saying anything at all.]

“Hey,” Noel laughed, playfully batting a hand at the moogle. Mog swatted his fingers lightly with his little staff and Noel exclaimed in exaggerated pain, sucking on his knuckles with large soulful eyes.

“Quit it, you two,” Serah said sternly, but the severity was killed by her own smile. She tugged on Noel’s hand, pointing to the city. “Let’s go. Our future’s waiting.”

Noel nodded brightly in return, though he knew no future waited for him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick chapter to wrap up some loose ends. The distinct lack of Hope makes Noel sad. :(
> 
> We're coming near the end! Two left!
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading.


	12. act iii. 500 AF.

**act iii. 500 AF.**

“We got Vanille and Fang. Their crystal is intact! Bringin’ them home!”

The Mission Control Center erupted into cheers and sighs of relief, a number of operatives sharing high-fives and pats on the back. Snow threw an arm around Hope’s neck, mussing his hair roughly. Hope shot him an embarrassed smile, but he couldn’t join in the congratulatory mood. The pillar would fall any moment…

To his right, the flight director was watching the consoles that would launch the new Cocoon. His team would not celebrate until it was safely in the air. A number of things could go wrong, and even with the amount of contingency plans, the faces of all the personnel were tight. This was the second phase of the project Hope had began five centuries ago and it was the zero hour.

“The pillar is coming down!”

All at once the celebrations stopped and mission control erupted into a flurry of activity. On the monitors, the empty pillar and its embracing curls trembled and cracked, dropping like a tear from the heavens and splashing onto the empty flatlands of Gran Pulse. Commands were shouted and initiatives launched; from the MCC down to the epicenter of new Cocoon, everyone worked together for the dawn of their new future.

And it rose with the sun, a star in its own right, and Hope could feel the tears pricking the back of his eyes as he watched their new ark shine in the morning sky.

“Bhunivelze,” he whispered. So he had named it when he returned from that otherworld. Ancient tracts called it the heart that shone most brightly in all crystal. This was the fulfillment of Noel’s wish.

( _As long as they’re happy…_ ) Though he struggled with it upon his return, Hope finally understood why Noel could accept all the wrongs he’d suffered. Why he had been so accepting of Mogki’s sacrifice, even when he hated sacrifice. Why he could smile at their separation, even when he hated being alone.

“What was that?” Snow peered down at him and Hope shook his head, blinking back his tears and forcing a smile.

“Just irritated that when I finally do something extraordinary, you’re the only one here to witness it.”

“Hey, now,” Snow deflected the backhanded insult with a large grin, roughing up Hope’s hair again. “I’m not special enough for you?”

Hope’s smile softened as he shooed away Snow and straightened his uniform, trying to regain a bit of his dignity.

Snow had been waiting for Hope in 500AF after the scientist had put himself into cryogenic stasis to once again travel to the future, greeting him with that trademark cocky grin. Apparently whatever Snow needed to do was done, and all that was left was to wait for the day the pillar would fall.

The flight director tapped Hope on the shoulder, saluting him as he turned. Hope was not officially a director any longer—the institution had developed well and he felt no need to insert himself into its established leadership—but many held the former Director in deep respect. Truthfully, Hope suspected it was due to the glorification of his exploits and his abilities, but he had long ago realized it was just best to let the people think what they wanted.

“Sir, we’re picking up a strange energy reading,” he began, and then Sazh’s voice crackled over the transmission speakers.

[ _Hey, uh, there’s some really fancy light show going on here…_ ]

Snow had already bolted before Hope could order one of the secondary transport planes to be prepared for launch.

 

  
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Snow visited him a couple hours after he was transferred from ICU to his private room. Befitting his status among the Academy’s elite, the suite was spacious and comfortable, akin to a personal bedroom than a medical accommodation.

But Hope was in a foul mood; he had fought earlier with a nurse who had taken away his laptop and tablet, urging him to rest. Without the distraction, he sat staring into space with his thoughts screaming in the silence of his head, all centered on Noel.

Snow burst into his room with his usual energy. The man was unchanged—he’d always be unchanged—though maybe there was a touch of maturity in his pale eyes. Hope welcomed him eagerly, his bad temper fading as he sat up and gestured for Snow to take a seat beside the bed. He had not seen Snow since that day; he was glad the man had not disappeared again into the ether without a farewell.

But as Snow clumsily discussed the weather and the evolution of 500 AF compared to their own era, Hope could feel his irritation returning. Obviously the doctors had gotten ahold of Snow before the man entered, giving him strict orders not to apply any undue stress upon their patient.

The Academy was keeping the former Director in the dark about the attempted assassination, due to ‘concerns for his health,’ and the orders rippled through the ranks. The medical staff took away his links to the outside world; even the televid in his room had channels blacked out. The doctors and nurses deflected his probing questions with pleasantry. No one in official capacity questioned him about the attempt and reporters weren’t allowed to see him.

Hope felt trapped and useless on this pedestal the Academy set him upon for his protection.

“Snow,” he cut in as the man rambled about Academia’s strict traffic laws, “I know they told you to keep your mouth shut due to my health. But since when do you listen to authority?” He leaned forward when he saw that scored a point on Snow, the big man grimacing. “I really need to know what’s going on. The ark must launch no matter what. Will you please give me an update on the situation? I promise, I’m on the mend.”

Quickly, Snow glanced him over, and Hope tried to make himself seem better than he appeared. He knew he looked tired; smudges under his eyes were an unspoken testament to his insomnia and he ate little, despite the good food. Yet none of that had to do with his injury which, according to the doctors, was healing cleanly.

“Officially, the higher-ups are putting it on anti-Academy sentiment,” Snow finally said, leaning his bulky frame back in the small chair. It creaked in protest. “Several factions are claiming the hit and neither gunman is talking.”

Hope blinked. “There were two?”

“Oh yeah.” Snow grinned, punching a fist into a palm. “Your hero saved the day again! I took out the guy who would’ve gotten in the fatal shot.” His grin turned sheepish. “Sorry for not coming sooner, else I would’ve gotten that first one too.”

“I’m grateful I’m still here,” Hope said, shaking his head. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been travelling up and down the timelines, chasing after some dude named Caius.” Snow spat out the name. “Discovered a situation with you—apparently your death causes the future to collapse. How does it feel to be the most important person in the world?” Snow’s crooked smile was teasing.

Hope scowled at him. “Quit that. So I had died in the timeline you’ve seen?”

“Yeah. I ran back here ASAP to save your behind. Pretty awesome, huh?” Pleased, Snow locked his hands behind his head, eyes bright in anticipation of praise.

Hope didn’t oblige; Snow should’ve known better. “You get a B minus. What’s the Academy doing right now? How’s the project?”

“Looks like you were the only target.” Snow shrugged. “The New Cocoon Project is still moving forward and some other mumbojumbo I didn’t get.”

“Good.” Relieved, Hope relaxed back against the pillows propped up on the headboard. He glanced out the large window filling up the far wall; the sky was a pale blue, cloudless. “How long are you planning on staying here?”

“Until you’re on your feet. Can’t have you dying.” Snow winked. “The future needs you.”

( _Yes, he’s correct. I have to take care of myself. I can’t risk Noel’s wish._ ) Hope just nodded.

Snow visited often, and Hope was grateful because it kept his thoughts busy. As long as he was busy, he didn’t have time for introspection. He still had trouble sleeping—he refused medication to address it—but he forced himself to eat; if the future really did depend on him, Hope had to make sure he remained healthy.

Because of his good behavior, Hope finally won his battle against the nurse, and he was allowed to work from his room. Tablets and laptops and thumb drives and paper littered his bed. Alyssa visited often on errands, though she complained loudly of becoming his gopher. The Academy was paranoid of a second attempt on his life since the first had failed, so few people were able to visit him freely.

One day, Snow was there when she dropped off a report and it was hard for Hope to ignore the way the man’s face suddenly closed off as she talked to them. Alyssa didn’t notice, but it set Hope on edge; Snow always wore his heart on his sleeve ( _like Noel_ ) and for him to become wary made all the warning klaxons go off in Hope’s head at once.

When Alyssa left, Hope discreetly watched conflicting emotions war over Snow’s rugged face. The man was obviously wrestling with some decision. Hope read the report, awaiting the result.

“I didn’t want to bring this up,” Snow finally said, and his eyes were serious. “At least, not until I had something concrete.”

Hope lowered the tablet to his lap, giving Snow his full attention.

“It’s pretty much confirmed that the attempted hit on you had some inside help. Security that day was way too tight for any ol’ joe to stroll in.” Snow hesitated. “I think it might be your assistant.”

Hope’s eyes widened. “Alyssa? Why would she help a terrorist faction? I can’t imagine she’d have any sort of anti-Academy sentiment; she’s earned many accolades under its flag. She’s even given up her life to travel here to the future to further her research. She’s passionate about her work.”

“I think she’s got a personal grudge against you, Hope,” Snow said in a low voice. “The anti-Academy factions are just a smoke screen.”

“A grudge?” Hope scoffed. He had trouble believing even a fraction of what Snow was saying. “What, that I work her too hard?”

Snow didn’t back down. “It’s just a theory, but just… be careful around her, all right?”

A few days later, Hope was released from his quarantine to the buzz of press and Snow abruptly disappeared again. At least he had the courtesy to remember to leave a note, taped to Hope’s laptop monitor.

Although Hope didn’t lend Snow’s warning about Alyssa any weight, he did learn the truth in Augusta Tower after that. She was a paradox who feared the erasure of her existence—not only her life, but the memory of her work. The parallel of her plight with Noel’s shook Hope to the core, and even though she wanted to kill him, Hope promised he’d find a way to save her.

He had to believe in that.

 

  
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Sometimes longing for something affected the ability to accept reality. Even though she was solid in his arms, Hope couldn’t believe he was actually hugging her. Light was shorter than him now, dressed as she had been when she first disappeared on that fateful day. The gravity on her face was stronger than ever; like him, she had seen and been through more than what time had recorded. But embracing her now, the essence of Light was still the same and he drank it in.

Light and Serah had dropped out of the heavens from a gate of light, and by Etro’s grace had landed safely on the deck of Sazh’s aeroship. Hope and Snow had gone out to meet them on another aeroship which had been previously prepared as an emergency measure to any problems, unable to wait. Here, soaring through the sky, with the sun and Bhunivelze as witnesses, they had their overdue reunion.

They huddled together, arms around each other, and the emptiness inside Hope’s heart grew less so in their happiness. But he could feel Serah’s eyes on him and he ignored it, because he had an idea of what she was thinking and he didn’t want to confront that, not just yet. Not when he reunited with his family after so long.

But as Academia loomed ever closer and Sazh informed them he was given clearance to land, Serah pulled him aside and he couldn’t avoid it any longer.

He couldn’t deny as he had anxiously watched the sisters falling from the gate that he was also looking for a third person. And there was no refuting the conflicting joy and resentment he felt at this result, and the presence of both shamed him.

Serah took both his hands in her small ones and he wanted nothing more than to run away. Hope guessed from the way her eyes held such pity that Noel had told her about them, and even though he was now six years her senior, he felt fourteen again.

His throat worked and he tried his best to sound casual. “Did Noel return to his own time?”

Serah hesitated, and with that Hope understood his worst fear came true.

“Ah,” he said quickly, not wanting to actually hear her say it. “It’s as I suspected—he remained in Valhalla. He had become a paradox.” Hope’s voice was coolly logical and distantly formal, as if explaining a thesis to a class of students. “His future no longer exists because we changed it. It stands that he no longer would either, as whatever circumstances leading to his birth now fail to happen.”

Serah’s face was concerned. “Hope… are you all right…?”

“Yes. I had long suspected this would be the end result of everything.” Hope was subdued, but not necessarily sad. Knowing the truth of the matter removed all doubt and hope from his heart, but he didn’t have to worry on it any longer. “I’ve already discarded any sorrow I may have had about the situation when I realized I wouldn’t see him again. And perhaps now I can finally discard my wish.”

“Your wish...”

“Yes.” Hope smiled briefly, a flicker of longing. “I had made a wish a long time ago. But it doesn’t matter. Loss isn’t eternal, and I’d be doing him a disservice if I can’t accept that.”

She hugged him tight, a hug of shared grief, and if Noel had left her anything to say to Hope, she didn’t tell him.

For this, Hope was grateful.

 

  
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When Hope met Snow again in 500 AF, he knew that Noel had escaped the otherworld and set time moving again.

“That Caius dude just up and vanished,” Snow told him. “I went and fixed everything he broke, but I think I’ll stick around here in case he pops up again. He definitely would wanna wreak some havoc here. Destroying your new Cocoon would just repeat what the fal’Cie had wanted and that’d fit perfect with his own plans.”

But Hope wasn’t concerned. With the timeline stabilized, the future Noel wanted was guaranteed. And with it, the possibility he’d never see Noel again was becoming a fact.

Something must’ve shown on his face, because Snow suddenly grinned encouragingly, slapping him on the back hard. “They’ll be back,” he said with childish optimism.

“Yes,” Hope agreed. He had to believe in that, but it was hard to in the face of reality.

In 500 AF, Hope found himself with more free time than he knew what to do with. Preparations were virtually complete; all current work was routine maintenance. He arrived a month early in case there were any problems to troubleshoot, but everything was moving as projected.

With no one needing him, Hope floundered around in a time he didn’t belong. He eventually ended up taking a university appointment. He enjoyed teaching and, though it was strange not to be an administrator, it was nice not to have that pressure constantly on his shoulders. He still served as a permanent member on the Academy’s Board of Advisors, so he wasn’t completely relieved of his bureaucratic duties, but maybe he could finally learn not to be a workaholic.

He shared a flat with Snow and quickly found that Snow was the nicest-worst roommate ever. The man felt obligated to take care of Hope like in the old days—Hope had long given up reminding Snow of their age differences now—and so tried to tackle the bulk of their chores on his own.

“Sorry, kid,” Snow grinned at him apologetically as Hope stared at the mess which destroyed what had once been their kitchen. “Serah usually cooks for me.”

( _And Noel for me._ ) Hope ordered take-out and made a mental note to start bringing home meals from the Academy’s cafeteria.

Besides attempted arson, Snow managed to destroy their laundry, blow out the lights of half the neighborhood, and nearly flood their entire floor. But worst of all, he was a chipper early riser, and if time didn’t hurry up, Hope knew there’d be murder. He dealt with it by making his students do double the work. Misery should be shared, after all.

Still, as much as Snow made Hope’s life hell, he kept him busy when work didn’t. As the pillar supporting the old Cocoon approached its expiration date, they both became more and more antsy. Snow was positive he would be reunited with Serah on that day; Hope felt a tinge of jealousy. He tried to keep believing that he’d have a truly happy ending— _everyone_ would be saved and his wish would come true.

But logic dictated only two outcomes: Noel would return to his own time or…

Noel wouldn’t exist at all.

When he finally had his breakdown, it was in front of Snow, much to his embarrassment.

In preparation for the upcoming launch, Hope had been flipping through some reports given to him by his assistant Aina, when he came across the old one that had first set him on the path of meeting a pair of time-travellers at an ancient city’s ruin.

Noel’s eyes were still vivid in the rain and Hope stared at the image on the tablet, mind blanking. His chest suddenly felt tight and his throat closed up, like a giant fist squeezing him into pulp. Unable to breathe, he began hyperventilating and his vision blurred, tears splattering onto the tablet’s screen. His hands gripped the edges of the pad in a death grip; if he had been a stronger person, he would’ve snapped it in half. The sobs were painful now, vibrating through his entire body, and he couldn’t stop.

“Hope?” He vaguely heard Snow’s voice float over to him as he struggled to just _stop_ , to maintain a sense of control over himself. It only made things worse. Rough hands seized him. “Hope, what’s wrong?!”

He always had an inability to cope, and locking up all those griefs finally was too much. It wasn’t just Noel, though a great deal of it was Noel, but it was also his mother and his father, both of whom he lost too early; it was also how he was left behind by everyone he had loved and no explanation why; it was also that he had changed while they all remained the same, affected by time’s passage and the long years of waiting with his questions; it was also how he was displaced from anywhere, with no sense of belonging to anything; it was also where he had become more of an idea than a person, living up to his name at the cost of his self.

Strong arms enfolded him tight and the cool, logical voice in his head nagged that this was not the proper way to medically address his hyperventilation and breakdown, but the rest of him collapsed bonelessly against Snow and shamefully let out thirteen years of pent up emotion.

When Snow calmed him down, he put Hope to bed, and Hope slept the first dreamless sleep he had since he returned home after abandoning Noel.

He was up early for once and Snow watched him with concern, greeting him with a tentative, delicate energy. Hope thanked him and smiled, a fragile, wounded smile, but it was genuine and it would heal.

 

  
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The aeroship landed smoothly, avionic technicians and members of Team Alpha flooding from the bay to to secure its precious cargo. Sazh and his son were already off and waiting for them as they disembarked off the aeroship’s open deck, bearing identical broad smiles.

Dajh immediately ran up to Serah with all the enthusiasm of greeting a favorite sister, as Sazh quipped his welcome to Lightning in an old, familiar way. The time which had separated all of them varied for each, but the span felt like nothing when they were all finally reunited. And soon Fang and Vanille would join them, were the removal of the crystal stasis successful, and the future seemed as bright as the dawn.

Bhunivelze reflected the sun’s golden glare and Hope felt a small pang of self-loathing twist his insides. Despite the words he told Serah, he harbored bitter thoughts about his inability to fulfill his wish. He could save the world and protect the future, but holding onto one person was beyond his strength, and it ate at him like a disease. He knew he was strong, and that was why he felt his failure keenly.

Something must’ve shown on his face, as Light touched his shoulder in silent inquiry. He smiled reflexively, but she always saw through his fronts, so he let the smile drop and shook his head. He had to accept his failure. He would keep telling himself that until he believed it.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Dajh said, hopping up to Sazh and clinging to his leg.

“Hey, I think the little squirt’s onto something here,” Snow agreed, an arm slung around Serah. He grinned down at her. “Let’s grab some grub! This’ll be the first time we all sat down together for a decent meal, huh?”

Sazh lifted Dajh up onto his shoulders, the little chocobo chick popping out to chirp in agreement. “Just need Vanille and Fang, and we’ll be one big happy family.”

( _This is what you wanted… right?_ ) A smile pushed itself across Hope’s mouth and he hurried ahead. “I’ll see what can be arranged,” he told them.

“Well, aren’t you the proper host,” Sazh said and then grinned up at his son. “Anything you want on the menu, Dajh?”

But the boy wasn’t paying attention, his head craned behind the group, large eyes reflecting the morning light.

“Dajh?”

“Daddy, what’s that?” Dajh pointed a small finger up.

Sazh half-turned, scanning the rosy sky. His skin suddenly paled. “Hey… guys… that thing—it’s that same thing you ladies came out of. Uh... Why is that thing back?”

They all stopped and Hope gazed up at the great lidless eye staring back.

Light stood by him. “Etro’s Gate,” she echoed his thoughts aloud, but she did not reach for her weapon. “It connects the Unseen Realm with the visible world, the dead and the living.”

As if in acknowledgement, the eye wept white light.

Serah realized it before Hope did. “Noel!” she gasped, tearing away from Snow and running back the way they came.

 

  
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Noel stood there long after Serah and Lightning had left, long after the gate had disappeared and his only company was the ocean of chaos which stretched into eternity.

The silence in Valhalla reminded him of that other dream when it had been beset by chaos. He had always thought chaos was supposed to be noisy and unfettered, and maybe it was; maybe its sound was so deafening that all others were drowned out.

“That was the first time I ever lied,” he said aloud, just to replace the silence. “When I told him that as long as everyone was happy…” He trailed off and the silence took over.

Finally, he turned away from the empty sea. He was a Guardian. He had no seeress to protect, but he had a Goddess to serve. This was his duty now.

But it was hard to ignore the ache in his chest and he pressed his palms against it. Hope’s crystal manifested under his fingers and he cradled it in both hands. Its light was spent, the wishes it held had all been fulfilled. The wishes of the people he met in that dream, the wish of Chaos, the wish of the Goddess and the Great Will. His own wish. They had all been fulfilled.

 _‘And what about my wish?_ ’ He smiled with melancholy fondness.

“Yeah, even your wish, Hope,” he told the memory. “You wanted to save everyone, including those I wanted to save, and you did. Thank you.”

Slim, warm hands closed over his own and Noel looked up in surprise. Her face was solemn in its benevolence and she was pale and bright like the sun. He knew her and a million possibilities blossomed in his mind about all that had happened. Yet even as he met her silver eyes, chaos bled from her, pulling her golden curls taunt and staining her dark. Now she was a matured Yeul but not, the way a mother and daughter could bear a strong resemblance yet were nothing alike.

He quickly dropped to a knee in a gesture of reverence, though her hands, now cold as marble, still held his fast.

“Etro…”

She pulled him back up, but he kept his eyes lowered. The chill bled from her palms against his skin.

“If you’re looking for gratitude for the blessing I have received,” Noel said ceremoniously, “I can’t give it. But I will serve you with what strength I have.”

“You desired this power.”

He finally looked at her; her eyes were Yeul’s green but even more remote, holding the universe. “I wouldn’t have chosen differently, but I’ve come to know it’s a bitter thing to have.”

“Power often is. If you return it, you will be released.”

Noel shook his head. “I can’t just lay down and die,” he told her, slipping into a colloquial fashion. “Not while there’s hope.”

“Is there hope?”

“Hope is the legacy of chaos,” Noel whispered the scripture.

She pried his hands apart like a clamshell to reveal the darkened crystal cupped within. “Then will you hear it? His wish?”

 

  
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Hope distantly heard Serah’s cry, even though he was standing nearby. He didn’t dare believe what his heart wanted, because hope could only take him so far. Better to cut cleanly than to saw through the wound.

Lightning pushed him and he stumbled numbly forward; the momentum was enough to keep his legs moving, slowly at first, but gaining speed until he was running, running for his life to where Serah waited, her face turned up.

From the Gate’s halo of radiance, an enormous crystal of many embracing wings emerged, refracting the light into a prism which stabbed at the eyes. And then the Gate blinked and was gone, and the crystal plummeted down, an inner pale verdant light swelling inside it.

Pieces of crystal shed from the shell, a contrail of flakes glittering in the risen sun. It was as if the sunlight and that inner light worked in tandem to melt away the jeweled prison, revealing dark hair and sun-kissed skin, black and blue ethnic garb.

Hope heard Serah gasp Noel’s name again and he was dimly aware of the others approaching, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the young man descending toward them. He didn’t trust his eyes, and a small cynical voice whispered that this was just a dream, that he had been working so hard lately with the launch of the new Cocoon, that it wasn’t _real_.

_‘I believe in you, all right? Please don't forget that.’_

And Hope realized Noel had not forgotten—even if Hope had.

The inner light faded as Noel neared them, invisible hands slowing his descent. Hope held up his arms and they trembled—in anticipation or fear, he couldn’t say. Noel gently drifted into his embrace, light as a feather, locked in slumber, and Hope carefully lowered him to the ground, cradling him close.

“Noel!” Serah was there at their side, leaning over the hunter. “Noel!”

Long eyelashes fluttered, soft breath ghosting through parted lips. Violet-blue orbs slowly opened to the sky, trembling in confusion. They landed on Serah, rounding in recognition. “Serah…? I’m… alive?”

Serah covered her mouth with shaking hands. “You’re really here.”

He smiled faintly, slowly sitting up. He turned the smile to Hope and his gaze softened, lips parting to form Hope’s name soundlessly.

A million emotions squeezed into a tight ball inside Hope’s chest, many he never knew he was capable of feeling, and he seized Noel’s face tight between his palms—he could feel him this time, not like their separation in the otherworld—and that was too much for him. Without thought he clamped their mouths together, desperately seeking deep the answers which would quell his doubt and despair.

“Whoa, whoa, we got a kid present!” Sazh’s startled voice was nothing to him, nor was Snow’s guffaw; he was drowning in Noel’s taste, scent, and warmth and nothing else really mattered except this reality stealing his very breath away.

Even when they finally broke apart, Hope was not wholly satisfied. “I’m very,” Hope began in between more kisses, “angry with you.”

“Really?” Noel asked, breathless and bemused. “I couldn’t tell.”

With a wry chuckle, Hope’s hands slid off Noel’s face to clutch at his shirt, pressing his forehead to the crook of the hunter’s shoulder. A shudder shook Hope’s whole body and a stifled sound escaped him. “Welcome back…”

Noel rested a hand on Hope’s back, lifting his gaze to Serah. Her eyes were rimmed with tears and he reached for her, hugging both of them close and tight. “Yeah, I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a lot of agonizing not to end this story with an unhappy ending. :(
> 
> One more to go! It's been an interesting ride. 
> 
> Commentary always welcome; thanks for reading!


	13. act iii. today and tomorrow and ever after.

**act iii. today and tomorrow and ever after.**

Humming an offbeat tune, she weaved through the long corridors of the basilica, dodging imaginary obstacles as she skipped. People stared at her when she bobbed by with a wave, whether at her outlandish attire or her incredibly cheerful demeanor it was unclear. She didn’t care either way. Today was a great day and it was only going to get better.

“Umm… which room was it…?” She slowed down as she neared the end of the hall, tilting her head left and right. “I think it’s… this one!” With a smile she pounced on the chosen door, swinging it open without a knock.

“Oh, Vanille!” Serah blinked at her in surprise, standing stiff in a long creamy gown, a pristine satin affair sparkling with tiny beads woven into an overlay of lace. Her arms, sheathed in opera gloves woven with ribbon and lace, were held out to the side.

Vanille presented a garland of brilliant pink flowers. “I brought them!”

Noel’s head poked out from behind Serah, several pins in his mouth and a needle in hand. “Oh good,” he mumbled around the pins. “Come help me with this.”

Vanille plopped the garland into a surprised Lightning’s arms, skipping over to hold a sash in place as Noel made an adjustment. “You look really lovely, Serah!”

Serah’s face was flushed with excitement and nervousness over the big event, but Vanille thought that made her all the more lovely. Her hair had been completely done up in a mass of curls and beads, crowned by a long veil sparkling with tiny gems. The dress was a deceptively simple affair, but upon Serah it was resplendent and luxurious.

“How’s Snow doing?” Lightning asked, carefully setting the flowers down on a table. She was dressed in a clean but flattering gown for the occasion. Vanille didn’t doubt that Lightning was probably armed somewhere under that dress, though against what, Vanille wasn’t sure.

“Ohhhh…” Vanille tilted her head. “Um, he and Fang were arm wrestling when I left. And before that they were checking who could punch the other in the arm the hardest. And before that they were seeing who could pull out the most nosehairs...”

Noel finished pinning the sash into place and motioned for Vanille to hand him the garland of flowers. “Don’t worry, Serah. Sazh and Hope are there. I’m sure they’ll step in before it gets out of hand.”

“I don’t know…” Vanille held onto the garland was Noel took an end and twisted it around the sash. “Hope was busy placing bets with Sazh when I left.” Vanille smiled happily. “He was very sure Fang would win.”

Noel took on a pained look as Lightning’s eyes shot daggers at his back.

“Sis…” Serah berated. “We all know you got to Hope first. Leave Noel alone.”

“Not that he was so innocent in the first place,” Noel muttered under his breath so Lightning wouldn’t hear. Vanille smiled—she quite liked Noel and it was nice having another person from Gran Pulse in their little family, even if their times were over a millennia apart. With a few stitches, Noel pinned the end of the garland into place. “There,” he said more loudly. “That should be the last of it.”

Serah lowered her arms, examining herself in a full-length mirror almost shyly.

Vanille clapped her hands in delight. “Perfect!” she approved. “What do you think, Lightning?”

Lightning cleared her throat, looking away. “Looks fine.”

“Ohhhh, I think Lightning is getting a little misty-eyed!”

Serah laughed, hopping over to hug her sister.

“Serah, you’ll wrinkle your dress…” Lightning protested half-heartedly.

Her sister just kissed her on the cheek.

“Okay, everyone,” Vanille said, hands on her hips, “time for girl things.” She looked pointedly at Noel.

He paused in putting away the sewing supplies, blinking. “Girl things?”

“That means you—out.” Vanille pointed at the door.

Noel glanced at Serah with a raised brow and she nodded firmly in response. “Why don’t you check up on Snow for me?” she suggested, though to Vanille’s ears it sounded more like an order.

“Right, right… I can tell when I’m not wanted.” But Noel smiled in good humor as he shut the door behind him.

 

  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

  
_‘I don’t ever want him to be alone. And I wish… I wish I can be one of the people that stays with him so he never is.’_

“What?” Noel stared at the dark Goddess, bewildered. “Is this…?”

Sooty lashes hid her eyes from him, gazing down at the crystal in their hands. “A compression of chaos, the passion and desire in human hearts… That is merely all a crystal is. This wish is the hope which formed this crystal.”

“... his wish was for me…?” Noel whispered to himself, dropping his eyes to the crystal. He never suspected; he had always thought Hope’s wish had always been to save everyone. But it made sense, didn’t it? Hope gave _him_ the crystal; Hope created the crystal _for_ him. If a crystal was merely a wish given shape, then it made sense that the crystal’s wish was centered around Noel.

The Goddess regarded him under hooded lids, impassive. “But do you have the strength to fulfill it? Only by the strength of will can one triumph over my Heart and its blessing. Only by rejecting what it offers will it return to me. In this you have failed.”

“Failed? I wanted it, bitter as it is,” Noel said in a low voice. “I need it.”

“And is that not why you are now bound by its blessing? The weak seek strength and are ensnared by it. My Heart heard your desire and granted it.”

“What about Caius?”

“Did he not want it? To be with whom he loved?”

Noel shook his head. “Only to see her die, again and again. It drove him insane.”

“Hope has always been a double-edged blade, for it is the legacy of chaos. Chaos does not feel. It does not choose sides. It simply is. It may cut or it may heal. That is why humankind has always turned to it for strength.”

( _And I… don’t have the strength. This last wish..._ )

“The strength to save and the strength to protect. The strength to live and to persevere. The strength to hope and to triumph. What is strength? Is it simply the means to do these things?”

( _The means…?_ )

“If it is the means, then what is the source? The human heart? It is the font of chaos, yet chaos is impartial. What then is strength?”

_‘I believe in you, all right? Please don't forget that.’_

“Renounce the strength you desire and you will die, Guardian. Embrace the strength you hold and hope will save you, Noel Kreiss.”

“The strength I desire…” No, he could not deny it. He desired the power given by chaos and it made him strong. To his people, chaos was not an evil thing. It was simply a source of power, and like an unthinking sword, shaped by the one who wielded it. Unrestrained it was dangerous, like a blade was dangerous to a novice, but tempered by strength…

It took strength to wield strength.

( _And the strength I hold…_ ) Perhaps it was a trick of the fey light of Valhalla, but Noel saw a tiny spark deep in crystal depths. Was this his strength? It was Hope’s crystal—a borrowed strength.

Borrowed strength. The other warriors he fought beside in that dream world. Serah. Lightning. He borrowed all their strength.

And they also borrowed his.

The strength to wield strength. Noel’s fingers tightened over the crystal. Caius sought strength and it appeared that he was in control of it. But in actuality, he was a slave to his strength; he did not have the strength to wield it and so it wielded him. Caius’ hope became the blade which hung over his head, suspended only by a thread.

What Caius lacked…  
What Noel possessed…

To keep hope or deliver it…

The Goddess closed his hands over the crystal, its gently growing warmth warding away the chill of her touch. “Farewell, my Guardian,” she said, as she took back the Heart he silently conceded and the life slipped from his body.

Hope’s crystal shone bright as it absorbed the chaos of Noel’s soul and Etro’s Gate opened.

 

  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

  
“Stop fidgeting. Why do you keep undoing this?”

“It feels like it’s choking me.”

“Don’t be absurd. Now hold still.”

“I don’t wanna wear it.” The objection came out as a little whine.

Hope pointedly shoved the knot of Noel’s necktie high and he jerked at attention like a scolded schoolboy. He offered Hope the most pathetic look he could muster. When Noel had rescued Snow from the inevitable embarrassment he’d suffer at Fang’s hands, Hope noticed that Noel decided to make his formal suit more comfortable. The two had remained behind in the dressing room as Hope preened Noel back up to propriety.

Sighing, Hope loosened the knot, tucking the tie ends under Noel’s waistcoat. “It’s just for today, Noel. You’re standing with Light for Serah, so you need to look presentable.”

“I don’t see the importance in how I look,” Noel sulked, hands twitching. He wanted to tug off the noose and unbutton his collar. The suit was stiff and scratchy and stifling. His movements felt constricted and the shoes were uncomfortable. The clothes of this era were ridiculous. “It’s not my wedding. Besides, I’m the one supporting her, not my clothes.”

One of Hope’s patient smiles planted itself onto his face stubbornly. “As I’ve told you previously, it’s a sign of respect for her special occasion.”

“You people have weird signs of respect,” Noel said, but he relented with a faint pout.

Slim hands smoothed down the front of Noel’s jacket, tugging it straight. “How did you manage to get so rumpled since we arrived…” Hope murmured, long fingers deftly fluffing the pink boutonniere pinned to the front.

Noel watched Hope’s hands work; his pale skin was stark against the dark fabric. They fussed over the lines of Noel’s coat before moving onto his vest and tie, sliding up to his jacket collar to flatten it properly. Noel smiled as a displeased wrinkle creased Hope’s brow upon spotting some lint, and he picked it off fastidiously between short-trimmed nails.

Hope had stopped wearing gloves since Noel’s return; Hope never said it outright, but Noel suspected it had something to do with the way the professor had to be constantly touching him, reaffirming his authenticity. Noel had no cause for complaint; he enjoyed the feel of Hope’s skin against his own. Hope’s hands were usually cold, which Noel found fascinating when the rest of Hope’s body was so warm. But it was just one thing in a long list of fascinating things Noel had discovered about Hope.

Soft hands now were tucking away loose strands of Noel’s hair, tucking them into the ponytail he bore for the occasion. Hope’s eyes flitted over his work, and Noel wondered if Hope realized how intense he often appeared. The hunter could see why the public idolized Hope; the intensity wasn’t intimidating but intimate, as if the focus of Hope’s attention was the only person in the entirety of Hope’s world.

“I love you,” Noel said suddenly with a smile. The need to say it was just too overpowering.

He expected Hope to get flustered or brush him off as he usually did, but fingertips stilled at his ears and Hope lifted his serious eyes to meet Noel’s.

Noel’s mouth went dry. Sometimes Hope would wear this one expression—the one he had now—which rocketed past intense into devouring. Noel didn’t even think Hope was aware of it. It was so undiluted and unfiltered, as every single one of Hope’s defenses disappeared, and the purity of his emotions was enough to make Noel fall in love with him all over again.

Cool fingers danced over Noel’s cheeks, grazing his lips, and Noel unconsciously leaned forward with anticipation, eyes hooded.

“Okay, you lovebirds,” Fang suddenly spoke up from the doorway. “Save it for your own wedding and let’s focus on this one. Noel, you better get moving before Lightning starts looking for you or you know what’ll happen.”

Hope turned his head to shoot Fang a disgruntled look; she folded her arms over his chest and raised a brow in return. Sighing silently, Hope patted the front of Noel’s coat a final time and cleared his throat. “Try to stay presentable,” Hope told him.

“I’m sure his odds are better if you two aren’t left alone,” Fang said slyly and Hope’s face colored.

Noel laughed, pecking Hope’s grumpy frown. “No promises.” He edged past a smirking Fang—she smacked him on the ass with a ‘keep it under control, boy’—and sprinted off to find Lightning before she got irritated at his tardiness.

 

  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

  
This was not exactly where he had expected his life to turn up. He couldn’t say he expected it to turn up anywhere specifically, but this was not something he had ever imagined in his wildest dreams.

Academia was mind-blowing when he had first witnessed it during its youth, and now in its maturity it continued to surpass storybook fancies. Here in this fantastical city, he lived with Hope; after Snow went with Serah to Bhunivelze, the former Director had swapped to a smaller, one bedroom flat—’what do we need two bedrooms for?’ he had said nonchalantly—and Noel found himself immersed in a whole new lifestyle dissimilar to anything he’s ever lived or imagined before.

It hadn’t been easy though. Shifting from neverending fighting to peaceful days left Noel floundering with a sense of vagrancy, as if he didn’t belong in this place and time. The abundance of people, food, and water; the actual variety of weather, flora, and fauna; the bounty of resources and the flourish of technology: it left Noel breathless with wonder and dread, like an observer to the microworld of a terrarium. Even as he wanted to experience all of it, he was afraid to disturb it. This left Noel with too much free time and a lack of knowledge on what to do with it.

He didn’t turn to Hope to anchor him. Even though Hope was officially just a professor at the Academy’s university now, the bureaucrats still turned to him for aid, and Noel didn’t want to pile on more things for Hope to worry about. Despite that, Hope still sensed Noel’s disconnect, so he tried to get him to work for the Academy’s military branch. But Noel found he didn’t deal well with the rigid structure and discipline that sort of duty entailed. He quit—he did honestly give it his best effort—and went back to meandering through his days.

He missed Serah. They were separated again, this time by distance, and he fretted about the return of her visions. But when they talked over video conferences—he hated the calls, he wanted to actually feel her presence—she was doing well. He was free to visit her whenever he wanted, and he did, especially during the preparation of her wedding, but he missed her all the same.

He thought about Yeul and Caius occasionally. Not as often as he thought he would; they were saved but absent from his life, and he wondered why he wasn’t as upset as he should’ve been. But Yeul’s words comforted him during his moments of doubt; she had been so confident, so he believed in her words that they’d meet again.

During those early days of his return, Hope was absent often. He supervised the restoration of Fang and Vanille and delegated the many duties involving Bhunivelze. Some nights when he would work late, Noel would wake from an unknown dream, loneliness overwhelming him. He’d reach out for Hope or Mogki or anyone, but he’d be alone. Panic would seize him and he’d lay there, paralyzed with dark visions.

But inevitably a slow calm would come over him, the realization that even if Hope was not physically there, Noel was not alone. He could feel the warmth of Hope’s wish radiating inside his chest and the sound of that soft heartbeat would lull him into a dreamless, cocooning sleep. In the morning he’d wake, and Hope would be there, curled against him as the sunrise streamed through veiled curtains.

If nothing else, Noel was adaptable because he was a survivor, and soon he accepted and loved this strange glorious era, with people and sounds and ideas and all these other wonderful things assaulting his senses. As he immersed himself in his new life, he made it a point to visit all their neighbors; he never had so many neighbors in his life and he had to know them all. Soon he went from being ‘the Director’s lover’—spoken behind hands with scandalized eyes—to ‘that sweet Noel boy, he’s such a darling young man.’ Once he learned how cooking worked in this era, he brought the things he made to share with others. And then when he learned how to bake, he became a popularly anticipated visitor for the employees working the local businesses.

Connecting with people helped anchor him and eventually led him to discover a purpose in his new life.

“I got a job,” he said brightly as he burst into the den one evening.

Hope half-twisted around to raise a brow at Noel, chewing on the end of stylus. He was sprawled on the plush carpet, his laptop open before him and papers scattered around. It still surprised Noel to see Hope dressed so casually; he was used to Hope in something with straight lines and no-nonsense, but even barefoot, clad in sweats and a loose shirt, he still managed to command the entire room.

At Hope’s confused expression, Noel paused. “That’s… what it’s called, right? A job?” He was still learning the idiosyncrasies of the language of the era. It was strange how words could be the same but be applied differently.

“Yes…” Hope said from around the pen. He pulled it out, tapping it against a leg. “Are you going to elaborate or …?”

Noel grinned, launching himself at Hope; the professor tried to roll out of the way, but Noel sprawled over him, pinning him down onto his back. Noel hooked an arm around Hope’s waist and rested his chin atop Hope’s sternum, eyes bright.

“N-Noel, the essays…!”

He ignored that; his news was far more important. “So you know Ms. Rosa from 241B?” Hope made a face at him. Of course Hope didn’t know their neighbors; he was intensely private. “Well, she owns this little cafe downtown and she was really impressed by my food and her former chef is retiring and so she thought maybe I might be interested and of course I am, so I got a job.”

Hope took a moment to parse that; then a slow, brilliant smile crossed his face when it registered. “Noel, that’s fantastic!”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Noel laughed, nuzzling the exposed collarbone peeking out of Hope’s shirt.

“We’ll have to get you licensed for food preparation,” Hope mused. “And then we’ll need to go over the labor laws and your rights so you’re familiar with them…”

“Laws? Rights?”

“Yes,” Hope said, raising up on his elbows to frown down at the hunter. “Since you’re unfamiliar with such things, you can easily be taken advantage of, so you should be aware of them. Unfair labor practices are a major problem. Noel, don’t look at me like that; I’m serious.”

“You always are.” Noel pulled himself up to kiss Hope reassuringly. “I’m sure Ms. Rosa won’t do something like that,” he murmured against Hope’s mouth.

Hope turned his head away with a defeated sigh. “You’re such an innocent sometimes.”

Noel hummed, in an even better mood now that he had won that little argument.

“I’ll finish grading these essays and we can go out to eat to celebrate,” Hope said, worming toward his laptop, but Noel’s hands slid up under the hem of his shirt to drift across planes of skin as he whispered petal-soft kisses down his jawline. “Noel, at least let me save—” Hope bit off the rest of his protest with a sharp intake of breath as Noel pushed himself more solidly over him, hips rolling together. Fingers fisted in Noel’s shirt to draw him closer and Noel smiled against Hope’s neck in victory, but he at least had the grace to nudge the laptop aside.

The papers… well, those were just a lost cause.

 

  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

  
The wedding ceremony was longer and more formal than those few Noel had witnessed in his time, but the same air of happiness was there. All the complex rites and words seemed so unnecessary in Noel’s mind; the joy on everyone’s faces was all that mattered.

Hope was standing on the groom’s side, engrossed in the ceremony. Shifting, Noel caught his eye and the professor smiled faintly at him, pale green eyes alight. Impishly, Noel mouthed ‘I love you’ and Lightning pinched his arm to pay attention. Hope’s face grew amused at the reprimand but his lips moved in a silent reply as his smile widened. ‘I love you, too.’

This was Noel’s future now. Was this the future that made Yeul smile? Everyone worked together to make a miracle, because the future was always fluid—and that was where the hope of the human heart lay. The chances encountered everyday always had an uncertain future that could blossom into a garden of importance or fade away in a winter of meaningless moments. Noel had seen the future as Caius had seen it, the possibilities that Yeul—all of them—had witnessed, and nothing was writ in stone. But even so, this future was bright and promising, and he reveled in the joys and troubles of today as he looked forward toward tomorrow.

He had Hope, and Serah, and Lightning and Snow, and everyone else, and so many others he had yet to meet. His companions from that dream were still in his heart and he knew they were well on their own worlds—even little Mogki, his most faithful friend, who wanted nothing more than Noel’s happiness.

Perhaps someday Noel would lose all that he’d gained, and he knew that was life, but so was finding something new to paint in the canvas of his story.

For now, today was what he had to help him face what may lay ahead, and Hope’s smile was the sun shining on the spring of his future.

 

  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

  
The town was locked in perpetual darkness, a literal city of endless night. Jaunty, bright glow-lamps flickered with the soft hum of electricity, casting long shadows on the immaculate cobblestone streets. The buildings were rustic and cottage-like in that quaint sort of fashion which tourists set as the backdrop of their photos. The people meandering the streets were quiet, keeping to themselves. Sometimes they nodded in greeting to a passer-by, fellow vagrants who lost their homes to the menace of the heart-devouring shadows.

The moogle fluttered anxiously through the streets, lost. Its eyes were downturned as it cast about for someone familiar, but the few humans hurriedly passed by. They had no time to help a poor moogle.

With a fluted sigh, the moogle sat heavily down at the foot of a stair in front of a tall shop marked ‘Accessories’ in bold assertive print, rubbing its pompom in worry. It didn’t know where it was and it could only vaguely remember how it got here. It felt like it was forgetting something important—or someone…s?—but right now it was too hungry to think about that.

“Kupopo…” The moogle cast a forlorn look at the building behind it. Maybe there would be food in there?

A customer walked out and Mogki darted inside.

**fin.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my little tale. It took almost two months, though it had been percolating longer than that. I tried my best to write a good adventure and if you made it this far, that means it was a good one for you.
> 
> Commentary always welcome.
> 
> Thank you to all for reading, commenting, favoriting, kudos-ing, following, or reblogging. I really appreciate it.
> 
> I’m percolating another Noel/Hope chaptered story idea, though it’ll be much more in the romance category than this one was, but if it works out, I will not be starting it until January.
> 
> What follows are some miscellaneous notes about Libera Me, if you’re interested:
> 
> LM actually started as a doujinshi concept. I had storyboarded a great deal of the story to be drawn out in comic form. I became daunted as the story grew, so it ended up in fic format as you see here. I had a lot of trouble converting it though; you can probably still see elements about the story that felt more appropriate for a visual medium than a textual. (For instance, Mogki.)
> 
> The story was originally much longer than published; it explored a lot more of the satellite characters and parts of the story we wouldn’t normally see due to the limited viewpoints of Hope and Noel. However, at the suggestion of my beta, these things were cut from the drafts and outlines; the story was to remain focused on The Excellent Adventures of Hope and Noel, and these sidestories meandered from that.
> 
> I had issues picking a title for the story; when I posted a list of potential titles to tumblr, bekasstrife picked Libera Me. Since no one else suggested anything better, and my beta was busy with RL, I rolled with it. I actually feel it’s overly dramatic, as I prefer understated titles, but it worked with the story content.
> 
> This is the first multi-chaptered “saga” style story I have ever, ever finished. Even if this story wasn’t that great or wasn’t read by anyone, I’m very proud of it simply because it is a long story I have finished. This is a big accomplishment for me. It was a huge learning process, but it was very encouraging. For anyone who made it to the end, I want to thank you again, because you’re reading an important milestone.


End file.
